


The Monster of Kame Dame

by AmethystUnarmed



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996) Fusion, Angst, Disney AU, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-04-15 07:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4598658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmethystUnarmed/pseuds/AmethystUnarmed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryou longs to leave his bell tower and join in living normal life, but is outcasted by his strange appearance, resulting from powers he was cursed with. That is, until he meets the Yami boy Bakura. Suddenly, the world is no longer the same as had Ryou thought, and he finds himself asking: What makes a monster and what makes a man?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> A fic I've been working on for awhile. Many chapters are already posted on FFN under the same title. I'll release a title a week until I get caught up, just to give me a chance.
> 
> Dedicated to my dear friend Akayuki Novak and my Beta Riri-kun.

The sun had barely peaked over the city of Domino, and the puppeteer already had quite the little crowd. He grinned (a sight both alluring and terrifying) at the children sitting in a circle around his stage.

The man was tall and imposing. He seemed more likely to be chained in a psychiatric ward than performing for children. His deep violet eyes were nearly as wild as his hair, the platinum blonde strands exploding in all directions. He dressed in simple clothes, a black tunic and tan trousers, with outrageous accessories of purple and gold.

His dark cape seemed to defy physics as the large cloth easily fit behind the small stage. Golden jewelry gleamed in the shadows of backstage, illuminated by the glowing symbol of an eye on his forehead. He caught a reflection of himself in his bracelet as he reached for one of his many marionettes. That symbol... _Damn thing brings me nothing but trouble._ And he loved it.

Turning back to his puppets, he pulled out his favorite, his constant companion. It was almost in his exact likeness. Same dark skin, same hue of hair and eye color. But the puppet’s hair was tamer than his own, and the eyes, more approachable. Perhaps even sane. But, he thought, smirking, I have given witness to much more than you, my dear friend. I’m allowed to be unstable.

"Come along, little Malik," he cooed at the muslin form, "It's show time."

* * *

 

The chatter in the streets subsided as the curtain opened. One kid actually stood up and cheered, before his friends yanked him back down on his butt. Marik the Puppeteer (and that was who he was, it said so on his cart) grinned his terrible grin but the small children laughed in response. The children loved Marik and his smile, taking in the gleaming fangs as a sign of what to come. It was Marik's "I-have-a-story" smile, what they waited for on baited breath. The kids seemed to inhale with the minstrel as he prepared for his performance.

" _Dawn in Domino, the city awakes, to the bells of Kame Dame!_ " Marik gestured to the large building behind him with a flair of his cape. The cathedral was magnificent behind them. The two bell towers, larger than dragons and the legends that held them, rose to scrape the clouds. The grey stone stood stoic against the blue sky, and Marik's brightly colored stand seemed like a children's drawing in comparison. The building was etched with images of the creatures of old and the Duelists who had wielded them. Even the smallest child in the group knew the names of every image, the duel monsters and Hikaris that guarded not only the holy building, but the residents of the city. However, despite the previous knowledge, the young ones looked at the building with renewed awe, marveling at the images of sentinels sent from the gods. Marik chuckled at their wonder.

" _The fisherman fishes-_ " The children waved to Ryota Kajiki as he walked by. Kajiki laughed and waved to Marik. The townsfolk were used to his antics by now. " _The bakerman bakes-_ " Marik again commanded their attention, directing it to the Burger World Inn behind them. The smell of freshly made buns was already rafting through the street. " _To the bells of Kame Dame._ " The kids nodded, showing they understood. The bells were in everything.

" _To big bells as loud as the thunder! To little bells soft as a psalm-_ it's a prayer." "Ohhhhhs" passed through his small crowd, the confusion Marik had seen vanishing. "Don't you kids pay attention in school?" There was an overwhelming response of "no!" Marik grinned. "Good. _But some say soul of the city's the toll of the bells, the bells of Kame Dame_." He sighed, ending just as the first sounds erupted from the tower. "Aren't they beautiful? Almost as nice as my singing. OOH! And guess what? They don't ring by themselves, you know." Malik's head snapped up, his mouth open so wide his jaw almost unhinged.

"THEY DON'T???" The young ones laughed. They all knew that bells couldn’t just ring on their own. It was probably magic.

"Of course not, baka puppet! High up in the dark towers lives... the bell ringer!" The children gasped, and looked up.

"I saw something! Something white!" The same child who had cheered earlier was squealing. Marik smiled at him, violet eyes locked on the wide brown irises. The brown haired boy never shut up, unless he was listening to one of Marik’s stories and/or eating. So Marik decided to indulge him.

"Who is this mysterious creature?"

"Who?!" The kid shrieked, eager to find out. Marik's smile widened, nearing psychotic levels.

"What is he?"

"What?!"

"How did he come to get there?"

"HOW?!" The brunette was about to pee his pants. The boy in front of him (who could have been a mini-Goth with his raven hair and matching trench coat) glared behind him.

"Shut up, you idiot! He's going to tell us!" Marik chuckled as the brunette leapt at him, barely held back by his small, blue-haired friend. Still, he decided he better get going before the punk had a black eye to match his coat. He clucked his tongue.

"Tsk, tsk. Can't stop fighting for one story?" All three of them blushed and sat down. "This is the next generation of duelists who will protect our great city? If this is where society is headed, count me out!" His voice was serious, but his eyes still smirked. The tension evaporated. "And Marik _will_ tell you. It is a tale of a man… and a monster."

Marik looked to the left and the right. No one was watching as he reached to his side, and grabbed a golden object from the waistband of his pants. The children gasped and clutched each other with excitement. Marik held his finger to his lip before holding the staff before him. A golden eye imprinted on the rod, the same shape as the one on Marik's forehead, faced the children. He muttered a spell and it glowed. Then with the flick of his rest, the rod returned to his waist, as though it had never been anywhere else.

Though the show continued, puppets acting out the words spoken, the children's eyes were glazed. It was almost as though they saw something no one else could see.

* * *

Images came like a dream; Marik's voice the only thing entering from the outside world.

_"Dark was the night when our tale was begun, on the docks near Kame Dame."_

Four figures stood near the river, huddled around a boat. All wore dark cloaks, hoods shadowing their faces. Their eyes shifted toward any bright spot, as though they were scared of the moonlight. A baby began crying. The figure farthest from the street, the only woman, rocked the bundle in her arms, clutching it closer.

“Shut that thing up!” The man in front of her snapped.

“You will ruin us!” Another wailed. Her husband merely placed a hand around her shoulder, but she could feel his tension.

“Hush, little one,” she pleaded. She could hardly claim him for crying out. She hadn’t had time to feed him before they ran and the air was bitingly cold. Her eyes locked on the cathedral and she prayed to the Gods for his safety, if nothing more.

_“Four frightened Yamis slid silently under the docks near Kame Dame.”_

They crept down the steps that led to the pier, silent as the shadows. They reached the boat with ease.

“Five hundred Yen for safe passage from Domino,” the ferryman hissed, stepping out of his boat, leaning forward with his gondola. He was lucky. A moment later, the boat exploded. The Yamis shrieked and fled from the waterside. The mother looked up, and her eyes widening in horror. Barrel Dragon stood her down, all three of its guns still smoking from shooting.

_“But a trap had been laid for the Yamis, and they looked up in fear and alarm...”_

 The frightened group gasped, huddling closer together. One fell to the ground and began praying fervently and he called out to the Winged Dragon of Ra. The Guard had arrived; silence was no longer needed. The group was fearsome. The four were clad in the uniforms of the Domino Guard, black robes overlaid with silver armor clamping tightly to their skin. Each wore the platinum Duel Disc of the Elite Squadron of the Guard.

“Insector Haga?” The father murmured in fear, gripping his wife closer, “Dinosaur Ryuzaki?”

“Bandit Keith and Ghost Kotzusuka.” The third man finished for him. “The four most powerful duelists in Domino.” He said this with no emotion. There was no need to show any. No point. This is the end.

“But if... if they are here...” The husband bit his tongue to keep from wailing. That meant he was here. As if answering his thoughts, a horse rounded the corner, carrying the very man all of them had hoped never to see.

_“At a figure whose clutches were iron as much as the bells...”_

“Judge Gozaburo Kaiba!”

_“The bells of Kame Dame.”_

Judge Gozaburo was tall and demanding, taking over the entire alleyway. He made the once-threatening duelists seem like clowns. Even Barrel Dragon seemed like a harmless toy in comparison to his imposing aura. He scowled at the Yamis, viewing them as cockroaches in his blessed city.

_“Judge Gozaburo longed to purge the world of vice and sin.”_

No one dared to move. Ever so slowly, Gozaburo made his way down the center of the street. His red robes swirled around him in the wind, making him look like a wrathful archangel. His sorrel eyes were cold as he smirked.

_“And he saw corruption everywhere... Except within.”_

“Take these Yami scum to the Realm of Shadows, where they belong.” Suddenly, everything had shifted. Barrel Dragon disappeared. Bandit Keith had dismissed him. There was no need to waste his power on this sham of an arrest. The mother now stood alone, her husband ripped away from her. She watched in horror as he, along with their companions, was roughly forced into shackles. This pause cost her. Haga noticed the bundle in her arms.

“What are you hiding?” he shouted, and reached for the blanket surrounding her child.

“No, no please!” she begged, yanking back from him. Gozaburo rolled his eyes, disgusted.

“Stolen goods, no doubt. Take them from her!” Her heart pounded in her ears, her breath came quick as her bloodstream filled with adrenaline. She only saw one option.

_“She ran!”_

Her hood flew back behind her, revealing long hair the color of snow and the image of a glowing eye on her forehead. She was too panicked to care about disguising it now. Her shoes pounded against the cobblestone. She could hear her husband crying out to her, but she couldn’t make herself care. Only one thought ran through her mind. I have to get him to safety. She clutched the boy tighter to her chest at this thought. Of course he was asleep now. She had always marveled at how the boy seem able to doze through anything, and right now, she could not thank the Gods enough for this gift.

Gozaburo’s horse screamed. The mother glanced over her shoulder and cried out in fear. Gozaburo himself was pursuing her, driving his horse forward like a madman. The creature was foaming at the mouth, nostrils flaring uncontrollably. The mother felt a twinge of guilt. It looked like Yamis were not the only ones Gozaburo was cruel to.

She didn’t have time to worry about that now. She had to get to the cathedral. It was the only safe place. Sanctuary... The word made her heart feel lighter. But even a Yami could not outrun a horse. She ducked to the right, intentionally heading out of her way. There. At the end of the alley was a small opening along the wall, just big enough to duck through. She could hear Gozaburo curse in anger as his horse reared, unable to get to her. He galloped off in another direction.

She gazed up at the large structure as she ran. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Her eyes filled with tears as she sent a prayer to every God, Legendary Duelist, and Monster watching over them. Thank you. She reached the massive wooden door and yanked the cast iron handle. It wouldn’t budge. No! She had no time; Gozaburo would catch up to her at any moment. She tried again. It was locked. She pounded on the door with all her might.

“Sanctuary!” She screamed, “Please, give us Sanctuary!” But it was too late. She heard a snort as hooves skidded to a stop. “Gods, please!” She turned in time to see Gozaburo dismount the sweat-drenched creature. He approached with fire in his eyes, the intense glare never leaving the baby in her arms. She tried to run, cut across to the stairs, and vanish into the alleys and back streets of Domino.

But the judge was quicker than she thought. He snatched her shoulder, pulling her near to him. She flinched back, squirming to be free of the grip that seemed to crush her bone. Gozaburo barely noticed her thrashing; instead he locked his clutch on the bundle the Yami was so intent on keeping. She wouldn’t let go. He had to shove her back with all his strength to safely dislodge the parcel from her. The Yami flailed, and backwards down the steps leading up to the cathedral. Her head connected to the edge of the stone with a wet crunch.

The baby’s eyes flashed open and he immediately began to howl, as though he understood what had just happened. But Gozaburo didn’t look down, still focused on the Yami woman. He had to be sure this wasn’t an act. So he didn’t notice the darkness that seemed to leak from his skin like sweat. The darkness comforted the crying boy in the way the judge refused too. It wrapped itself around the infant in a warm embrace, and the wailing subsided. At that, Gozaburo did look down.

“A baby?” He questioned, and lifted the blanket to get a better look at the child in his clutches. He drew back at the sight. “A monster!” The words sprang from his lips. The newborn looked about at him, large brown eyes set in the inquisitive pale face. Hair the same shade as his mother’s was already sprouting from the crown of his head. It seemed even lighter in comparison to the dark energy that surrounded the babe. Shadow magic! The youngling was already coated in the filthy magic the Yamis performed. He scowled at the lifeless woman on the steps. She had cursed her own son before he could even walk. The boy was a freak, a menace to society. With magic like this, he could destroy half the city in a temper tantrum.

Gozaburo knew what he had to do.

His eyes scanned the square. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for until his eyes settled on the well. Perfect, he thought, and nearly ran to the fount. He held the child out over the water, as far away from his own body as he could manage. The contaminated baby made no noise of protest. He knows this is the will of the Gods, Gozaburo inferred, taking this as a sign he was making the right decision as he went to let go-

“STOP!”

_“The Archduelist, Sugoroku Mutou, shouted.”_

The Archduelist had heard the woman’s cries, and had come to help a desperate soul. Instead, he discovered a corpse on his steps and the Minister Gozaburo dangling a baby over the well. He ran to the Yami draped across the steps. Blood was pooling behind her head, and her skin was already cold to the touch. The Archduelist sighed and closed her eyes, whispering a prayer for the soul that had left them this night. Gozaburo sighed, not in the mood to deal with the old man.

“This child is tainted with the Shadows! I am merely cleansing this corruption with the waters of Kame Dame,” he explained. The Archduelist met his gaze with a glare the minister had never seen before. The look burned with sadness, as though Gozaburo had set a pyre at the Archduelist’s feet.

“ _See here the innocent blood you have spilt, on the steps of Kame Dame!_ ” He was nearly begging Gozaburo, urging him to acknowledge the inert figure at his feet. The judge waved the accusation away.

“I am free of guilt. She ran and I pursued.”

“ _Now you would add this child's blood to your guilt on the steps of Kame Dame?_ ”

“My conscience is clear!” the man insisted. Still, he brought the boy back to be held at chest level. The Archduelist stood, now carrying the woman in his arms. He strode toward Gozaburo as he spoke.

“ _You can lie to yourself and your minions. You can claim that you haven't a qualm. But you never can run from nor hide what you've done from the eyes..._ ” He trailed off and looked back to his cathedral. “ _The very eyes of Kame Dame._ ”

Though he was nearly two feet shorter than the minister, the Archduelist seemed to grow with every step until he towered over Gozaburo. Icy chills ran down his spine as the meaning of the words sunk in. He looked up at the massive structure, and felt a pit in his stomach. It was like nothing he had ever felt before.

_“And for one time in his life of power and control, Gozaburo felt a twinge of fear for his immortal soul.”_

He swore they were looking at him. The monsters, the Legendary Duelists he served... It seemed as though the statues that decorated Kame Dame were all staring at him, intent on burning him now rather than waiting for him to end up in hell. Even the Gods in the stained glass window above them seemed to react. The three Egyptian Gods he had always served... Could the Archduelist be right? Could he have forsaken them?

“What do I have to do?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the image of the Gods.

“Care for the child,” the Archduelist answered, “Treat him as your own.” Gozaburo’s eyes snapped to the older man, enraged.

“You expect me to take this foul creature and-” He sighed, remembering the glare of the Gods. “Very well. But he will live in your cathedral.” Now it was the Archduelist who was surprised.

“What? W-where?” he sputtered. Gozaburo shrugged.

“Anywhere. _Just so he's kept locked away, where no one else can see._ ” He examined the church, for a moment, before deciding. “The bell tower, perhaps. And who knows, our Gods work in mysterious ways. _Even this foul creature may yet prove one day to be of use..._ ” He paused, then added so that only he could hear. “ _...to me._ ”

* * *

The children blinked, and they were once again back at the foot of their cathedral, in their Domino. Marik was now sitting in their midst, a faint smile still on his lips. “That was sixteen years ago. Now, they say the child, Ryou, has grown in both size and power, everyday ringing the bells for us down here below.” The bells began ringing again.

“It’s him, it’s him!” The small brunette cried, gripping onto Marik’s hand.

“Yes. He’s letting them sing to us. _‘Now here is a riddle, to guess if can,’ sing the Bells of Kame Dame, ‘Who is the monster and who is the man?’_ ” He raised an eyebrow at them. No one answered. “ _Sing the bells, bells, bells, bells..._ ” He stood, taking both of the boy’s hands as he sang, skipping in a circle with him. Soon, all the children had joined their ring, even Mr. Emo. Marik beamed as they sang with him. “ _Bells, bells, bells, bells..._ ”

“ _Bells of Kame Dame!_ ”


	2. The Bell Ringer

Ryou’s chest heaved as he tugged on the rope.  His face was bright red, and he glistened with sweat. Since the week before, when his master had banned him from using his powers to ring the bells, this exhaustion had become the norm for Ryou. Though he loved the bells, he could barely manage them. Each pull lifted him five feet in the air and his legs felt like jelly from landing. At least he actually was landing on his feet now, rather than being thrown around like a rag doll. He was small. Not in the sense of height (he wasn’t that much shorter than Master Gozaburo) but Gods, he was thin. His master had once commented that he was surprised Ryou never blew away when a strong gust of wind swept through the tower. Sometimes Ryou wished he would.

It was for this reason, his slim figure, that he figured Master Gozaburo had discovered his use of his shadow magic in the bell tower. Ryou was never tired after his duties, never had broken a sweat. Of course, mentally it had been exhausting... at first. But physically, he had shown no sign of wear. His arms had never thickened, his physique remaining long and slender. His hands had never calloused, remaining soft. _Like a girl’s_ , Ryou thought. That was what Gozaburo had told him, when he had punished him for using his magic. Ryou shuddered as he remembered the look in his master’s eyes as he took Ryou’s hands in his own, studying them intently. He remembered how clammy his palms had become, how fiercely his hands had shaken as he waited for the blow that was bound to come. To his surprise and horror, Gozaburo had smiled. _Well,_ he smirked, _We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?_

Ryou’s hands weren’t soft anymore, that was for certain. The bell rope was stained red with his blood. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out as the cuts reopened. The coarse rope shredded the already tendered skin with each move he made. It burned like fire.

Finally, he stopped. He let go and fell backwards on the rafter, disoriented from the loss of momentum. _Ow.._. He rubbed his backside. That would smart for a few days. He laid back on the wooden beam and closed his eyes, listening to the fading echoes of his bells. He felt like he was ringing himself, limbs seeming to vibrate. His muscles spasmed from overuse. He was lightheaded from dehydration and hunger. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this. _It’s your own fault_ , Ryou chastised, _If you had done this from the beginning, you would be used to it._

But it had been so much _easier_ to use his powers. Ryou had first started ringing the bells when he was eleven. If he was small now, he had practically been inexistant then. He remembered Master Gozaburo telling him to ring the bells, and he had been excited. He finally had a purpose, finally had a way to make himself useful in the church. But that day, he had discovered he couldn’t do it. He physically was not capable of getting the bells to budge. Despite his attempts, he missed sounding the bells for the first service that day. Not even ten minutes later, his master had come to see him. And he had not been happy...

It went like that for a week. Ryou unable to ring the bells, Gozaburo punishing him for being unable to ring the bells. It was an endless cycle that he could see no escape from. So he did the only logical thing he could think to do: sat down and cried. What can I do... he thought, as he looked up at the bells. They seemed to grow bigger as he observed them. _I cannot disappoint my master... Yet I can’t fulfill my duty to the Gods. It’s not_ fair _!_ He pounded his fist against the floor. For the first time in his life, Ryou was truly angry. _IT’S NOT. FAIR!_ Something clicked in his brain, and the bells rattled. The bells. _Rattled!_

The dark aura that had followed him for as long as he could remember had expanded rapidly, shifting the bells as though it was a solid object. If he could do that... Ryou held a hand out towards the rope and closed his eyes, trying to focus all of his energy on the rope. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking in concentration. And nothing happened. _Ra dammit! Okay, think Ryou..._ Anger had caused him to lose control and the shadows had exploded outwards. So...

Ryou closed his eyes again, this time not focusing on the rope, but on the darkness around him. He had always felt the darkness as a tangible presence, a living organism around him. He couldn’t fathom any idea of what life would be like without the shadows that clung to him, that moved as he moved. They were connected in a way he did not understand, as proven by their reaction to his anger. For the first time, Ryou disobeyed an order of his master. Instead of trying to isolate himself from his darkness, he embraced it. For the first time in eleven years, he felt whole. He lifted his arm and the aura around him moved with it. A tendril of shadow leapt from his hand, wrapping tightly around the cord. The darkness wasn’t separate from him. It was an extension. He yanked his hand down, the shadow tugged on the rope and for the first time in a week, the Bells of Kame Dame resounded throughout the city.

He had grown in his power, no longer needed to move to control the gloom. It was a decision he greatly regretted. He had been tainted from birth, but that wasn’t his fault. Master Gozaburo said that in order to compensate for the evil he brought into the world, he had to shun all darkness, ignore his power. But it was hard... It was part of him. He sighed, and sat up. _It’s not like I can escape it. I’m a monster._ He pulled his knees into his chest and sat for awhile, until he heard a bird singing.

“Oh!” He leapt to his feet, ignoring the pain that echoed through his body. He looked over the edge of the rafters and winced. His body ached in protest at the mere thought of trying to climb back down to the main level. His shadows reached out toward the beams, yearning to be used. He felt cramped, like he was trapped in his own skin. Master Gozaburo hadn't said he couldn't use his powers to climb the bell tower...

Oh, what the hell. He was damned anyway.

Ryou extended his hands and the tendrils of shadow seemed to explode from his side. They raced like eager dogs obeying their master, and wrapped around the rafters and beams. For the first time in a week, Ryou openly grinned as he swung down to main level.

* * *

Ryou ran across the room to the balcony, hoping he wasn’t too late. He stopped in the doorway and took a deep breath when he realized he wasn’t. Sitting on the top of one of the statues was the nest of a little white bird. Ryou had been taking care of the bird for awhile. He had discovered awhile ago that the birds weren’t afraid of him. He set his teeth. _They probably don’t realize I’m human._ But, in this case, it was a blessing. His friend would never have allowed his approach otherwise.

"Hello," he cooed, as he walked carefully toward the nest. Perched on top of the head of one of the great duelists was a fledgling swallow. The bird cocked its head at the sound of his voice and chirped in recognition. Ryou chuckled. "Why, I'm glad to see you too. Are you going to fly today?" He swore the bird's eyes widened.

"You can do it, I promise!" The bird's siblings had flown off about a week ago and shortly after that, the mother had stopped returning. Survival of the fittest, he guessed, no need to waste time on a bird that refuses to fly. But Ryou knew what it was like to be left behind. He cared for the bird, in the hopes that it would soon be able to care for itself. However, that currently seemed unlikely as it huddled closer to its nest.

“Aw, please?” He took the bird into his hands. “I would give _anything_ to be able to fly out of here. And what a better day to see the sights!” The wind began to pick up, rustling the bird’s feathers. He extended his wings without realizing it. “It’s the Feast of Duels! There’ll be food and dancing and dueling!” The bird began to flap its wings. The sun was warm and just stretching his wings didn’t sound too bad. “You could see it all up close. Down there, with everyone else...”

Ryou shrugged and smiled, showing the bird his empty hands. It squawked in surprise and Ryou laughed. “Go on,” he urged as a flock of birds flew past, “No one wants to be cooped up here forever.” The bird twittered at him before flying off. Ryou’s eyes never left the swallow as it dipped and spiraled toward the ground. As it filled the courtyard with joyous song, it never knew just how much his human friend wished to sprout wings and join him. Next to Ryou, the statue which had once been the bird’s home shook his head. He reached a hand into his bushy hair and brushed away the nest.

“Man! I thought he’d never leave!” the boy moaned. He was taller than Ryou, though not as lean. The mouth which normally held a wide smile twisted into a grimace. “I’m going to be picking feathers out of my hair for a week!” A little ways down the balcony, another statue clucked his tongue.

“Jou, it’s not the bird’s fault your hair looks like a nest.” He was too was taller than Ryou, even a bit taller than the other statue. He smirked at his friend’s distress. Both males wore clothing that Ryou had always considered odd: slim fitting pants and high collared jackets. And both, of course, were made entirely of stone. The statue known as Jou clenched his fists.

“Oh yeah? Well at least it doesn’t look like I have a spike coming out of my forehead.” The other boy’s eyes narrowed.

“You take that back.”

“Make me.” The boys lunged at each other, beginning to wrestle. Ryou sighed.

“Hikari Jounouchi, Hikari Honda... Please don’t- Not again...” Both of their heads snapped up toward him and grinned. _Oh no_... Despite the fact they were solid stone, the two moved remarkably fast. Honda pinned Ryou’s arm behind his back and Jounouchi locked him in a headlock.

“What did we say about using official titles?” Ryou grinned up at him.

“Uh... Don’t?”

“Exactly.” He gave Ryou a noogie, but the white-haired boy only laughed. The touch was cold and annoying (he could feel his long hair twisting into knots), but not painful. “We’re friends Ryou. Cut all the Hikari crap with us.”

"It's a sign of respect!" He insisted, trying to pull away from Jou's hold. Honda and Jounouchi locked eyes and smiled. Without further planning, they both let go of Ryou at the same time. Therefore Ryou, who had still been struggling against them, went flying backwards. He would have fallen on his butt too, if Yuugi hadn’t been there to catch him. Normally, Ryou, being a head taller than Yuugi, would have taken them both down. However, Yuugi caught him with ease, though Ryou winced as his elbow jammed against the solid sculpture.

“Ryou, are you alright?” Big eyes filled with worry at Ryou’s pained expression. He swiftly turned the other boy around, looking Ryou over for any sign of injury. Ryou couldn’t keep the smile off his face at his friend’s genuine concern. Yuugi was practically his mother. Once he was sure Ryou was okay, Yuugi turned to glare at Honda and Jounouchi. Despite his small stature (most of which was made up of his large, spiky hair), both of the other boys took a step back.

“Uh, you see, Yuug’,” Jounouchi began sheepishly, trying to come up with a sentence to appease the smaller boy. Honda scratched his head and refused to make eye contact. “We were just... Uh...” Ryou laughed.

“It’s okay, Hikari Mutou. We were just joking around. I’m fine,” he insisted, gesturing to himself in order to ignore the look Yuugi gave him. His elbow ached, but he knew it was fine. The worry didn’t totally disappear, but Yuugi smiled.

“If you say so, Ryou.” Jounouchi gave Ryou a thankful glance over Yuugi’s head.

"Yeah! Besides, I know something that'll make ya feel better. It's the Feast of Duels!" Jou announced. “The square is already filling up.” He ran over to the edge of the balcony, quickly followed by Honda. “Look! There’s Ryuji Otogi, and Mai Kujaku... Ooh, Anzu Mazaki just arrived! All your favorite duelists Ryou, come on!” He waved his hand, calling the boy over without looking at him. Ryou sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

“No, thank you. I’m going to go inside and work on my figurines. You guys go ahead.” All three statues gasped and stared at him as though the world was coming to an end.

“WHAT?” Jonouchi and Honda shouted. They stammered, but couldn’t find more words to express themselves.

“But you love the festival,” Yuugi said, “You watch it with us every year!” At this statement, Ryou turned away, hiding his face from them.

“Yeah. _Watch_.” He fled back inside, leaving his stunned friends in his wake. Honda hit the wall.

“Dammit!” he growled, “Ryou had one thing to look forward to, and now he can’t even enjoy that.” He looked to Yuugi. “Do you think that Gozaburo-” Yuugi shook his head, cutting him off.

“No... It’s not that. Ryou isn’t like us. Sure, we have the memories of the real Yuugi, Katsuya, and Hiroto, but we’re just replicas, statues. Ryou is human, despite what Gozaburo tries to tell him, and he feels. He isn’t made of stone.” Jonouchi frowned.

“I dunno Yuug’, but I think Gozaburo had something to do with it. He’s calling us ‘hikaris’ again.” Yuugi sighed and bit his lip. Hikari. None of them liked the term. It had been developed by the Church of Duel Monsters ages ago, soon after the religion was founded. It was only given to those considered true heroes, people who fought with the Heart of Cards, and used Duel Monsters to make the world a better place. The term literally meant “light.” The Hikaris were the supposed “lights” in dark times. “He only does that bullshit when Gozaburo yells at him.”

The supposed “Hikaris” hated their title. They had lived their lives long ago, made mistakes, been human. Now they were elevated to this level of seemingly impossible holiness... It didn’t feel right. Once Ryou had been old enough to talk, they instructed him to never call them by their titles. We never asked for the so-called honor and we didn’t want it! Jou thought, Ryou is a friend, not some kind of servant. Gozaburo, on the other hand, felt differently about the Hikaris.

“They are holy men,” he had told Ryou, “Better men than you could ever hope to be. I refuse to let you mock their memory by insisting on being friends with gargoyles.” That was the first time Ryou had started calling them by Hikari. And now...

“Come on guys.” Jonouchi pushed forward and off the wall. “We need to talk to him.”


	3. Deciding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm really, really late. But here!
> 
> Beta-ed by Riri-kun

Ryou busied himself with the models in front of him. Before him was a life-like model of the city, complete with all its citizens. _Well, almost all,_ he thought. Domino was so full of people, he could hardly say he had made _everyone_. Not to mention, Gozaburo hardly ever let him work on his “little pet project,” as his master labelled it. Ryou hadn’t argued. He didn’t want Gozaburo to know how important the wooden structures were, how much they helped his sanity. It was true, he had started creating figurines out of sheer boredom, but it had come to mean something more that. In a way, it was the only way he could truly feel as though he was connected to the beings far below him, who didn’t even know he existed. In a way, they were as much a legend to him as he was to them.

He reached past the structure of Kame Dame and picked up the nearly completed imitation of Ryuji Otogi. Recently, Ryou had realized that a lot of his figures had been out of date. Many of the people who had been children when he had first started making the figures had grown up, just as he had. For example, Otogi wasn’t the small, gangly child Ryou had sculpted years ago. He had grown, both in height and hair, and now had a liking for dark kohl that Ryou could see even from his tower. Ryou smirked as his lightly brushed his fingernail in a line under tiny Otogi’s eye, perfectly mimicking what the real Otogi wore.

 _Finished_ , he decided with satisfaction, despite his hands’ screams in protest. Though he had washed them of blood, the pain didn’t go away. His joints shrieked against every movement, and Ryou knew he was reopening the shallow scabs that had formed over the gashes. He made a mental note to ask his master for bandages when he arrived.

“Ryou?” a voice called from behind him. Ryou froze and bit back a sigh. He knew Yuugi would come and talk to him. The caring statue always did. He just had hoped the lead Hikari would have waited longer, so that Ryou had had time make up a believable excuse. But be it as it was, he plastered a smile on his face.

“Yes, Yu- Hikari Mutuo?” Yuugi sighed and shook his head.

“You don’t have to call me that.” Ryou frowned. He knew his friends didn’t understand the purpose of the titles or even like them, but... Gozaburo had been right. Ryou was everything the Hikaris were not. He was tainted, not even worthy to _talk_ to them, much less be their friend... But he was selfish. Horribly, undeniably selfish. He couldn’t handle the idea of isolating himself again. He was willing to risk their souls so he wasn’t alone. His eyes began to itch, and he found himself unable to look at Yuugi any longer, instead choosing to intently study his hand. So he heard, rather than saw, Yuugi walk up to him and place a hand on his shoulder.

“Ryou? What’s wrong?” Ryou refused to look up.

“Nothing, Hikari. I’m fine.” Yuugi walked past him to the table and began fiddling with the figures nearest him. Biting his lip, he leaned forward, trying to figure out the best way to get through to his friend. Ryou preferred bottling up his problems, insisting they were his to bear. Of course, the three statues knew this was bullshit and refused to let him wallow in pity and self-loathing.

Yuugi grimaced. Lately, that was becoming an almost impossible task. Slowly, Ryou was becoming more and more withdrawn, even from them. It pained Yuugi to watch the boy grow up, watch dark circles grow under his eyes, watch him wrap his arms around himself as though that could possibly hold him together. And yet there wasn’t much he could do but watch. Ryou refused to say what he was feeling. Yuugi and the other two Hikaris could only be witnesses as Ryou became a dead man walking.

“My name is Yuugi.” Ryou didn’t respond for a long time. Just as Yuugi was starting to think he wasn’t going to, soft words broke the silence.

“I know.” Ryou went back to working on the figurine of Otogi. Yuugi nearly groaned.

“ _Ryou_.” The white-head snapped up. Yuugi could now see the line of tears threatening to spill over. And still, the boy smiled like nothing could possibly be wrong. A smile that could break a heart of stone. Before Yuugi truly considered what he was doing, he was next to Ryou with his arms wrapped around the teenager. He felt Ryou flinched before relaxing, as if allowing Yuugi to hold him together, if only for the time being. Yuugi bit his lip, but pressed on.

“Ryou, what’s wrong? You love the Festival of Duels. You count down the days until it arrives. And now you won’t even watch? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I... I just don’t feeling like it this year.” With those words, something clicked in Yuugi’s head. Like the pieces to a giant puzzle all fell into place. _Oh_. Ryou doesn’t want to _watch_ the festival. He wants to take part! Of course! Yuugi looked up and, seeing the despair in his friend’s eyes, swore he would make it so.

“Well...” He couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. “Ever considered going down and seeing it up close?” Ryou groaned and pulled away, knowing was Yuugi was up to.

“ _Of course_. But Yuugi, I-”

“Then you should go! Right, guys?” Yuugi opened the door to the room and Jounouchi and Honda fell into the floor with a yelp. Ryou covered his mouth to block the giggles threatening to escape. Jou glared at Yuugi before scratching his head, embarrassed at getting caught eavesdropping.

“Yeah... Definitely!” He said this with growing conviction. “You would love the festival.”

"No shit!" Honda proclaimed, cutting Ryou off before he could even start."You need to live a little."

"Or a lot!" Jou added.

“Sing the songs!”

“Dance until you drop!”

“Eat the food!”

“As your friends and guardians,” Yuugi continued, “We demand that you go out and enjoy the festival.” A smile snuck to Ryou’s face. His friends always managed to cheer them up, no matter how misplaced their intentions.

“But you guys are forgetting something,” he reminded them, crossing his arms, “My master, Gozaburo?” The trio of statues instantly deflated, and it hurt to watch. Ryou wished things were different too, but they just weren’t. There was no way in heaven or hell that Gozaburo would ever let him set foot outside of the bell tower and he knew it.

“You know what, Ryou?” Jou began slowly, as though prepping himself. “I say screw that bastard!” He launched his hand in the air in a fist. Ryou blanched, but Honda only cheered him on.

“Yeah! He can’t make you stay up here forever!”

“Yes, he _can_ ,” Ryou insisted, now turning bright red. He didn’t like where this was going. “He- I can’t- I don’t belong-” He could feel his chest heaving, a frantic edge cut his mind. He knew he was on the verge of having some form of mental breakdown until Yuugi touched his arm.

“How will you know if you never try?” Sometimes, there are sentences said that mean the world. Sometimes there are sentences said that change it. For Ryou, this was one. Gozaburo had always told him he wouldn't be accepted, that Ryou never had a chance at being normal. But he couldn't really know that, because they had never tried. They accepted the Yamis into their midst, even Marik had become a semi-functional part of society. Why couldn't he? The statues knew they had won when Ryou's face lit up. But they made no comment until the pale boy gave his answer.

"I'll do it." His voice didn't waver. For the first time since he could remember, Ryou spoke with certainty in his actions.

“WHAT?” his friends gasped in surprise. Sure, they wanted Ryou to go out and have fun, but they didn’t think he’d actually do it. Immediately, the white-haired boy paled, confidence evaporating.

“Unless you think it’s a bad idea, I mean-”

“No, no!” Yuugi scrambled up to him, desperate to mend their mistake. “It’s a fantastic idea, Ryou.” The grin he received could have lit up the Shadow Realm.

“Yeah! I can see it now,” Jou agreed, swiftly wrapping his arm around the human’s shoulders. He reached out in front of them, as though he could create the image he described. “You’ll wake out, bask in the sun. The people gasp in awe as the light reflecting off your pasty skin blinds them.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault I’ve been stuck inside my entire life!” Jou continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted.

“The ladies swoon, the men gaze on in jealousy, and you get to try hamburgers? It’ll be a dream.” Honda rolled his eyes, pulling Ryou away from the now drooling Jou.

“What Jou means to say is that you’ll do great, Ry.” He beamed at the shorter boy. “So get out of here!” Honda pushed him toward the door.

“You guys are right. I’ll get a disguise,” he began, formulating a plan in his head. He could barely keep his shadows from pulsing in excitement. I bet the Archduelist has an old robe I can borrow... Gozaburo won’t be looking for me, so as long as I don’t draw attention to myself, I’ll be fine! He strode toward the door, no longer needing his friends constant words of encouragement. “I’ll get cleaned up! I’ll go down those stairs, march out the front doors and-” As he reached for the handle, the door swung open. Ryou stumbled backward, voice catching in his throat.

“M-Master Gozaburo.”

* * *

Atem was very, very lost. “You leave for five years and they change everything,” he muttered, glaring at the map. It was of no use now. The Realm of Shadows was marked to be on the other side of the city. He had already been there and discovered the once grand building had burned to the ground. It seemed like a fitting omen for his return to Domino.

Now, he was loyal to the city and the people in it, but this wasn’t his place. He should have been back on the front lines, with his men, fighting against the legions that dared try to conquer Japan. However, things must have taken a turn for the worst in Domino; he’d received a letter from Judge Gozaburo himself ordering his return. Though, from what he could tell, everything seemed fine. A large number of people were milling around town square, clearly not afraid to be out in the open. A sense of levity filled the air as people began to set up for the festival. He had to admit, this he was glad to return to. The Domino’s Feast of Duels was legendary throughout Japan as one of the best celebrations in the country. Atem had greatly missed the dancing and dueling that accompanied the event. He had won the annual tournament every year before he had joined the army. He couldn’t wait the reclaim his title.

However, he had to get to the Realm of Shadows first. He saw two men (well, he said men. They seemed more like teenagers, younger than him) in the uniforms of guards walk in front of him. He urged his horse forward.

“Excuse me,” he asked as he approached, “Is there any chance you could direct me to the Realm of-” They brushed past him. The shorter one, with cyan blue hair and yellow spectacles, actually glared at him, as though he was unworthy to even ask for their attention. “Guess not,” Atemu finished as he watched them walk away. He frowned. Strange. One of the reasons he liked Domino was because of the lack of people like, well, that. People who thought the world revolved around them. He had a sick feeling Domino was going to turn out to be very different than he remembered. Suddenly, he heard the sound of jingling gold and cheering. His eyes looked in the direction of the noise and smiled, catching sight of a dancing figure with white hair. At least one thing in Domino hadn’t changed. There were still Yamis.


	4. Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryou has a discussion with Gozaburo and the Captain of the Guard finds something interesting.

“Hello Ryou.” Gozaburo entered the room, seeming to suck any life from the air around him. Ryou instinctively hunched his shoulders, making himself smaller. He shuddered, as the temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. His shadows clung close to his skin as though they too could feel Gozaburo’s burning sneer.

The two contrasted each other, almost perfect foils. Gozaburo was everything Ryou was not. Where Gozaburo was broad chested and thick with muscle, Ryou was slender and fragile, easy to break. Where Gozaburo had tanned, olive-toned skin, Ryou’s skin was almost translucent from lack of sun. Gozaburo’s dark hair and thick eyebrows were always orderly and under control, whereas the hair of his adopted son was a wild absence of color that he could never seem to overpower. Gozaburo smirked at the thought.  _ But that’s the only part of him that isn’t under my thumb. _ Even their clothes countered one another. Gozaburo was dressed in extravagant red silks adorned with gold, his robes a symbol of his status and power. The only garment in Ryou’s possession was old striped prison uniform. The tattered cloth swamped his form, so faded from overuse that the stripes almost appeared to be light blue as opposed to the normal ink black. And as Ryou trembled before him, the meaning behind the appearance was clear.

_ I own you. _

For the first time, Gozaburo took notice of the statues that surrounded the boy.  _ The Three Hikaris again... _ he mused, and raised an eyebrow at his charge. “Ryou? What are the statues doing out here?” If it was possible, Ryou got even paler. His friends had frozen as soon as Gozaburo had appeared, but they hadn’t had enough warning to go back to their original places.

“I- I- I don’t know, M-Master, I-” Suddenly, Gozaburo was an inch away from his face.

“ _ Don’t you lie to me, Ryou. _ ” Ryou cringed at the hot breath and flecks of spit that flew onto his face.

“I- They- They were-” Gozaburo clenched his hand around Ryou’s shirt collar, yanking him closer.

“Ryou. What are the statues made of?” Ryou squeezed his eyes shut.

“St- stone, Master.”

“And, my dear boy, can stone walk?”

“No...” he murmured, not meeting his master’s eyes.

“Louder.”

“No!” The older man smirked.

“That’s what I thought. Now, do tell. If stone can’t walk, how did the statues go from outside on the balcony to in here?” Ryou sighed. Oh, he was in so much trouble.

“I...” The words caught in his throat. It wasn’t fair... True, he could take what was coming to him. He always had before. It was his friends he was upset for. Even though they didn’t move, he knew they would watch every minute. They would blame themselves for his punishment. Honda and Jou would try to find a way to “kick the bastard’s butt” and Yuugi... Yuugi would be apologizing to him for weeks, a pitiful look in his big amethyst eyes. He didn’t want that. But he had no choice. “I moved them.” His master’s grin widened. He had Ryou cornered.

“And what did I tell you about the Hikari statues?” Ryou said nothing. “Ryou?”

“I am not worthy to be near such images of light. I would taint them.” The words were said in monotone, like a school lesson so drilled into your head that you don’t need to think about what to say.

“Precisely. You disobeyed me. You know what that means?”

“I get punished, Master.”

“Right, my dear boy.” Without further warning, Ryou was thrown to the ground. He couldn’t help but cry out in pain. Instinctively, he had tried to catch himself with his hands, ripping the freshly scabbed burns to shreds. The floor was streaked red, and it felt like his hands were on fire, but he refused to let himself cry. That would only result in more pain.

“It’s a shame,” his master continued, “I had brought such a nice meal for you as well. Now, you force me to waste it. I give you comforts far beyond what you deserve, and this is how you act? I saved you from the horrible woman that was your mother, I raise you as my own, and I continually suffer for my generosity.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryou breathed. He meant it too. His master may be punishing him for something that wasn’t his fault, but he still had sinned. He had used the shadows, and therefore sinned against the gods. He deserved it.

“Good. It impresses me that someone of your wickedness would be able to even feel remorse. That in itself is a blessing from the gods. Now, go and set the table.” Ryou’s head snapped up in shock.

“But, Master, you said-” A glare silenced him.

“I have not yet eaten, Ryou.” The stern tone was clear. Food would be served, but he would only be serving.

“Yes, Master Gozaburo.” He quickly scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself in the process. Gozaburo chuckled, and allowed his eyes to loosely follow the retreating form. But all amusement vanished when he realized his gaze focused too low.

“Damn boy,” he muttered, as Ryou ran back in, carrying a golden chalice and matching gilded plate. He gently set them down on a table near the window, and then moved to pull out the chair for Gozaburo before sitting himself. Gozaburo eyed the plate with suspicion. It was coated in blood. He caught Ryou’s eyes, practically daring the boy to ask. It was a silent second before Ryou realized Gozaburo was waiting for him to say something. It was another second before he saw the blood on the plate and the challenge in his master’s eyes, and made the connection between the two.

“Uh... Master?” Ryou’s eyes were locked on his hands. “Could I have bandages f-for my hands?” Gozaburo smirked. How he wanted to say no. He was about to, in fact, do just that, when he truly looked at the boy’s hands. The skin was torn away from the flesh, marring the once perfect palms. If nothing were to be done, the boy would carry the hideous scars for the rest of his life. Gozaburo remembered the skin that once felt like silk, and the dreams he held of those heavenly fingers stroking against his bare torso.  _ Dammit. _

“You may.” Ryou did a double take.

“Wh- what?” he cried in shock. Gozaburo’s eyes narrowed.

“Would you like me to change my mind?” He nearly snickered as the boy scrambled to find a reply.

“N-no, Master,” he sputtered, and a true smile graced his lips, “Thank you Master.” He looked like an angel when he smiled but Gozaburo knew the truth. This creature was a demon, sent to torture him. A tainted beauty he could never have. But he could touch.

“Would you like to work on your alphabet while I bandage you?” Gozaburo asked as he went to pull some cloth from a nearby drawer. Ryou nodded mechanically.

“Yes Master, I would like that very much.” He didn’t really have a choice. Gozaburo reached across the table and took his hand. Another, more experienced person would have noticed that the touches lasted too long; the fingers trailing along his knuckles were more than fatherly. But Ryou took no notice.

“A?”

“Abomination.”

“B?”

“Blasphemy.”

“C?” Ryou had to think for a second.

“Con- contrition?”

“D?”

“Darkness.”

“E?”

“ _ Eternal _ darkness,” Ryou grinned. He had that one down. Gozaburo nodded.

“Good. F?”

“Festival.” Ryou gasped as Gozaburo pulled tightly on his bandages.

“ _ What did you just say? _ ” The brown eyes widened as Ryou realized his mistake.  _ Shit! _

“I-I, I said, f-four-” Gozaburo was already standing. He slammed the back of his hand against Ryou’s face, knocking him out of his chair. He yelped in pain, but before he had a chance to get his bearings, Gozaburo had him by his collar.

“You said  _ festival _ .”

“No! No, I-” He cut off with a whimper when Gozaburo lifted him to eye level.

“You were thinking of going down there!”

“W-well, it’s just... you go every year and I-” Gozaburo barked a laugh.

“You think I  _ enjoy _ it? It is my duty as a public official, Ryou. Don’t tell me you think me so crass as to actually revel in being among the Yamis? I am forced to exist among the hustlers and thieves, preside over the drunken dregs of human society! And you think I  _ like _ it? Are you daft?” He dropped him to the floor. Surprised by the sudden movement, Ryou yelped and landed on his hands and knees. Gozaburo walked past him with a look of disgust. “After all I’ve done for you... After all the work I’ve put into keeping you safe... You would throw it all away for a  _ festival _ ? I treat you like a son, take you in as my own, and this is how you repay me?”

“I... I’m sorry...” The white-haired boy was too ashamed to meet his gaze.

“You should be!” Gozaburo shouted, fully enraged, “When your mother abandoned you, like the demon you are, anyone else would have let you die! I took you into my care, raised you to be just and good, and you wish to frolic among the Yamis?”

“No Master... I, I didn’t mean-” Gozaburo sighed.

“Of course you didn’t. I should have known you wouldn’t know any better. I sometimes forget how simple you are.” Ryou nodded as his master knelt down beside him. “Ryou... look at me.” He placed a finger on the teen’s pale chin, lifting his face. Big, doey, tear-filled eyes met his own, and it was all Gozaburo could do to keep himself from taking the boy right there. “Oh, my dear Ryou... You don’t know the outside world, not like I do.  _ The world is cruel, the world is wicked! It's I alone whom you can trust in this whole city. I am your only friend. _ ” Gently, he took Ryou’s hands, and helped the boy to his feet. “ _ I who keep you, teach you, feed you, dress you, I who look upon you without fear, how can I protect you, boy, unless you always stay in here, away in here? _ ” He cupped Ryou’s cheek in his hand, gently stroking the pale face. “Remember what I taught you, Ryou.  _ You are the Dark. _ ”

“ _ I am the Dark _ ,” he repeated, eyes dead.

“ _ And you are unsightly _ .”

“ _ I am unsightly _ .”

“ _ And these are crimes for which the world shows little pity! _ ” Gozaburo pulled away from his adopted son, shaking his head. “ _ You do not comprehend! _ ” Ryou followed close behind him, a beaten dog still trying to please his owner.

“No, no I do!  _ You are my one defender. _ ”

“ _ Out there they'll revile you as a monster! _ ” The judge growled, violently gesturing toward the balcony.

“ _ I  _ am _ a monster... _ ” Ryou whispered the words he could never escape, the truth he could never seem to bear hearing. It  _ still _ hurt, even after sixteen years.

“ _ Out there they will hate and scorn and jeer. _ ” Ryou didn’t notice his master’s victorious smirk as he reveled in the broken look on Ryou’s face. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“ _ Only a monster... _ ”

“ _ Why invite their calumny and consternation? Stay in here! Be faithful to me. _ ”

“ _ I’m faithful! _ ” Ryou leaned up and took his master’s hands, nearly begging the man to believe him.

“ _ Be grateful to me. _ ”

“ _ I’m grateful! _ ”

“ _ Do as I say. Obey. And stay in here _ .” His tone was final. There was to be no more discussion. Ryou nodded.

“You are so good to me, Master Gozaburo. I’m sorry.” He bowed his head. Gozaburo gave him a soft smile.

“All is forgiven, my dear boy,” he murmured reassurance, running his fingers through Ryou’s hair. “I only want what’s best for you. Remember, this is your sanctuary.”

“Sanctuary,” Ryou breathed, absentmindedly leaning into the caring touch. His master wasn’t like this often, but Ryou craved what little love he received. Gozaburo stiffened at the word, remembering the screams of a Yami woman, a ghost that had haunted him for his one mistake. He shoved Ryou away.

“I have to go.” With the gruff words and the wave of a cloak, he was gone. For the first time since the man had entered the room, Ryou felt the weight lift off his chest. He took a deep breath and fell to his knees. He said the one thought that plagued his nightmares.

“ _ I’ll die up here. _ ”

* * *

 

Atem slid around the corner, eyeing the festive scene in front of him. Yamis were scattered about the square, easy to pick out due to their colorful clothing and glowing foreheads. A black haired boy sat on a high wall overlooking the square, tapping his hand to the music. An older teen stood below him, seeming to smirk despite himself. Atem let out a chuckle as he spotted a man with golden spiky hair that made his own tricolored locks look tame. Though he was a bit concerned by the combination of the crazy look in the man’s eye and the mass of children clinging to his leg. But his eye was truly only drawn to one attraction, the dancing male in the middle of the square.

In a word, the guy was beautiful. Pale skin like moonlight, with untamable hair to match. That was another good word for him. Untamable. Atem had a good feeling the dancer was just that. He could see it in the clever smile on his lips, the devious look in his russet eyes. The boy winked and Atem felt himself blush.

But he couldn’t bring himself to look away either. The dance was hypnotic. Atem could feel himself being drawn in by the bouncing flute, provided by a man in a turban across the square. His eyes were dazzled by the black cloak that whirled as the teen spun about himself, revealing flashes of blue and white stripes underneath. In his hand was a true treasure, a bronze ring that glittered in his hand like living sunlight. Though the white-haired teen used it as a mere substitute for a tambourine, Atem knew better. He subconsciously reached down to trace his fingers along the edge of his Millennium Puzzle.

As he walked by, he flipped a gold coin into a pouch set at the dancer’s feet. As if in celebration, the entertainer spun around twice, fiercely shaking his tambourine. Atem nodded his head in response. It really was no trouble. The youth deserved much more than that for his performance. The entire square was alive with joy because of it, everyone laughing and dancing with glee. Noticing a pink-haired teen with what Atem presumed to be his younger brother, Atem found that he had to amend his statement.  _ Almost _ everyone.

“But big bro!” The kid whined as the elder dragged him away, “Everyone else is having fun!”

“They’re Yamis, Leon!” the older boy huffed, “They’ll rob us blind!” He shot a glare at the brunette over by the wall. The Yami only smirked back. Above him, the boy straightened and let out a piercing whistle.

“Guards! Coming this way.” The atmosphere changed in an instant. In a flash, the brunette helped the boy over the wall before leaping over it himself. The Pied Piper and his mob of toddlers seemed to disappear into the shadows. The flute player shoved his instrument deep within his robes before dashing down the street. The dancer grabbed the cap full of coins before fleeing himself. Right into another person. Coins flew in every direction, scattering like lost hopes. The boy quickly dropped to his hands and knees, struggling to collect all of his hard earned wages.

“Hey, watch where you’re-” the blonde protested before she looked up, and smiled. “Oh, Bakura, it’s you. Getting into trouble a little earlier today, aren’t we?” Bakura snickered.

“Oh, Mai. You wound me. Don’t you know the secret? You’re only in trouble if you get caught!” As he reached out for a coin in front of him, a large green shoe stomped on top of it. Two shadows fell over the Yami, and he looked up in annoyance. Grinning down at him were none other than Ryuzaki and Haga. He let out a long string of cuss words before saying, “Oh, I’m in trouble.”


	5. Out There

With some effort, Ryou struggled to his feet. He grunted and dusted himself off.  _ Well. That could have gone better,  _ he thought to himself as he looked up. He could see the intricate architecture, the framework of wood that held the bells and held him captive. Pockets of light managed to find their way in, and lit up the ever-shifting dust motes. He sighed.

“ _ Safe behind these windows and these parapets of stone, gazing at the people down below me. _ ” He ran to the windowsill with a sense of urgency, as though seeing the people below was as necessary as oxygen. He had to be sure they were still there, had to know that he wasn’t the only one left in existence. “ _ All my life I watch them as I hide up here alone, hungry for the histories they show me. _ ”

Yuugi, Jounouchi, and Honda slowly walked up behind him. He didn’t notice, too entranced with the lives below him. His form looked haggard as the wind tore at his clothes and hair. It too wanted to grab him, take him away from this purgatory. As soon as Yuugi laid eyes on him, he moved to go and talk to the boy. After seeing how Gozaburo had reacted, what had happened to Ryou because of him... He felt physically ill. However, before he could get much further, Jou placed a hand on his shoulder. Yuugi looked up in surprise.

“Jou?” Jou gave him a sad, but understanding smile.

“Give him time, Yuugi. Ryou needs this.” So the three watched in the shadows, spellbound. Ryou had wandered over to the table with his figurines. He gently lifted a miniature Anzu.

“ _ All my life I memorize their faces... Knowing them as they will never know me. _ ” He watched, he knew things. He knew how hard Anzu worked, trying to save money in order to achieve a career as a dancer. He knew that Otogi was swiftly becoming overwhelmed by his father’s lust for revenge against the Archduelist, and was beginning to question if he even wanted this revenge himself. He knew Mai’s fears of being alone, he knew Isis and Rishid were still watching over Marik, despite the tragedies that had befallen them, and he knew why Marik treated every child that followed him as if they were made of gold. He had lived a thousand lives without setting foot out of the cathedral. Ryou saw their pain and happiness, and wanted more.

“ _All my life I wonder how it feels to pass a day, not above them..._ ” he trailed off, and reached over to grab a model hidden in the bell tower replica. It was small, almost seeming fragile, but it was hard to tell much else. The figure was wrapped in black cloth, suffocating the miniature in shadows. Ryou hesitantly set in down in the square, as though the universe would crumble at the mere notion of him living a normal life. When nothing happened, he broke into a grin. “ _But part of them!_ _And out there, living in the sun!_ ” He ran back to the window, gazing down longingly. The square was hardly recognizable. It was littered with bright tents of all colors and sizes, facing toward the massive stage that dominated the space. Ryou knew it would hold dancers and performers in the opening ceremony, before becoming the site of the duels themselves.  “ _Give me one day out there. All I ask is one, to hold forever!_ ”

At this point, he turned around and gave a warm smile. He knew his friends were there. They always were. And judging by the smiles that were returned to him, they always would be. Suddenly, a devious look flashed in his eye. Before the statues could fully register it, Ryou had winked and leapt out the window.

“RYOU!” All three cried and ran over to the window. They frantically looked down, expecting to see a flailing body spiraling to its death. There was only empty air. Yuugi turned on Jounouchi, eyes flaming.

“Give. Him.  _ Time? _ ” he hissed, backing the taller statue into a corner, “He  _ needs _ this?” Jou raised his arms in surrender.

“Now, Yuug’... Let’s not do anything hasty...” He shot a pleading glance to Honda. His only replies were crossed arms and a look that let him know he was on his own. “Fellas, I’m sure-” He was cut off by a giggle.  _ No way... _ All three looked up.

Ryou was hanging upside down like a bat, a grin lighting up his face. His shadows held onto the balcony above, safely suspending him above Domino. He laughed and waved before pulling himself the rest of the way up. He disappeared onto the roof. The three statues sat in awkward silence.

“So...” Honda began, “Did Ryou just play a prank on us?” Yuugi scratched his head.

“I think he did.” Jou spoke through a smirk.

“I’d be pissed off if I wasn’t so impressed.”

Ryou ran across the rooftop, and he couldn’t stop laughing. The dumbstruck images of his friends kept sneaking back into his head. _They looked like fish_ , he thought, _with wide eyes and mouths in open “o’s.”_ He laughed again, but the mirth couldn’t last. He pressed himself against the stone railing, letting the wind run through his hair. He hummed at the pleasant feeling, before staring longingly at the event being set up below. He stretched his arms forward, spreading his hands out above the beautiful city. He wished he could grab it and pull it close; hold it tight to his chest. He wished he could finally feel like he had a home, a home he could share with the residents of Domino. “ _Out there, they all live unaware,_ _what I'd give, what I'd dare..._ ” He considered this, and quickly came to a conclusion. _Anything. Anything at all._ “ _Just to live one day out there!_ ”

Ryou continued up the side of the bell tower. He found climbing to be easy with the assistance of his shadows. He liked it up here. He didn’t feel like a bird in a cage with the fresh air and open sky. Besides, the higher up he went, the more of Domino he could see. And he loved the view.

“ _Out there among the duelers and the gamers and their cards, through the roofs and gables I can see them. Ev'ry day they shout and scold in total disregards, heedless of the gift it is to be them._ ” So many of them seemed to take their lives for granted. They spent the days unhappy and unfulfilled. _What more could they want,_ Ryou wondered. “ _If I was in their midst I'd treasure ev'ry instant!_ ” He made it to the top of the steeple. The wind was fierce, but he felt no fear. He knew he wouldn’t fall. “ _Out there, strolling in Japan. Taste a morning out there, like ordinary men who freely walk about there. Just one day and then I swear I'll be content, with my share. Won't resent, won't despair. No matter what, I won't care!_ ” He threw his arms out wide, embracing the sun on his skin.

“ _ I'll have spent one day out there! _ ”

The second Seto’s feet hit the ground, he grabbed Mokuba and ran. “Whoa!” Some part of him registered the yell of shock as he yanked the younger boy down the street. He ignored it. Despite the vice grip on his little brother’s wrist, he knew he hadn’t hurt the boy. His main focus was the same as it had always been. He had to get his little brother somewhere safe. And here wasn’t it.

“Seto, please slow down! My legs aren’t as long as yours!” Mokuba protested. Seto made no visible acknowledgement of his brother (he was busy scanning the area for other guards) but did in fact slow down. Mokuba cocked his head, finally able to hear something other than his pounding heart. And he didn’t like what he heard.

_ “Oh, I’m in trouble.” _

_ “Alright Yami, where’d you get the money?” _

“Seto!” Mokuba dug his heels into the ground, forcing his brother to a halt. Seto sighed and rubbed his temples.

“What is it Mokuba?”

“Bakura!” he shouted, looking back to the wall. “He’s in trouble. I think the guards caught him. Come on, we have to go back.” He turned and began tugging his brother back toward the courtyard. Of course, being eleven and small for his age, he had very little effect on the tall brunette.

“Mokuba,” Seto groaned, exasperated, “That’s not our problem.” The boy’s jaw dropped.

“Not our problem? But- But- Bakura’s a Yami too! He always risks his life to rescue other Yamis. We should do the same!” Now, Mokuba was right. Completely, totally, and utterly right. Bakura was somewhat of a celebrity among the Yami population of Domino. Everyone knew him, because nearly everyone had had his or her skin saved by him at one point or another. Seto fell into this category as well. However, that didn’t mean he made the mistake of calling Bakura a hero. In Seto’s mind, he was anything but. He saved Yamis for the sake of screwing over Gozaburo and his merry band of duelist rejects, not because he was “morally obligated” to do so. Seto nearly snorted at the thought. Besides, Seto had a much more prevalent concern that Bakura never had to deal with.

“I have to take care of you first.” Mokuba rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. He might not be. Let’s go!” Uh-oh. Seto recognized the look in his little brother’s eyes. The grey irises were set like steel and Seto had a feeling the boy’s will would be just as strong.  _ Ra, why are you so stubborn? _ Time for a different tactic.

“Mokuba,” he began, as he knelt down. He let his expression soften, something that he only allowed around the boy in front of him. “How many times has Bakura been caught by guards?” Mokuba laughed.

“About a million.”

“And how many times has Bakura gotten away from said guards?” Mokuba’s response was slower this time.

“... About a million.”

“Exactly. Bakura is a master at this. What happens if we get involved and can’t get away? We’ll just get him in  _ more _ trouble.” Mokuba stared at his feet. Kaiba could feel his little brother’s passion dissolving.

“... You think so?” Seto nodded.

“I  _ know _ so.” He slid his hand down his brother’s arm, interlocking their fingers. “Now come on. You don’t want to be late for the festival, do you?” Mokuba shook his head, his mountain of black hair seeming to erupt.

“Race ya!” He shouted and took off. Seto allowed himself a brief smile before following after him.

Crisis averted.

Ryzuki grabbed his collar, pulling Bakura up towards his face. “Alright Yami, where’d you get the money?” Bakura glared at him. He tugged the guard’s hands off his trench coat. He dusted himself off with a look of disgust, appalled by the brief touch.

“I can stand on my own, thank you,” he curtly informed them, and he did. He towered over them, radiating volatile anger, but the guards only smirked at him. They weren’t afraid of a single, insignificant Yami. “Get it through your thick skulls,” he continued, then spoke slowly, as though addressing toddlers, “I earned it.” The two laughed. It sounded like a cat going through a cheese grater.

“Yamis don’t  _ earn _ money,” Haga sneered.

“Did you steal it?” Ryzuki added.  _ Okay,  _ that  _ pisses me off,  _ Bakura thought with a glare.

“You’d know an awful lot about stealing!” A crowd was beginning to form, and not one that was in favor of the Elite Guards. Haga knew he had to end this.

“Troublemaker!” Ryzuki snatched the Yami’s wrist. Bakura growled.

“Get off me, you moronic sons of-!” He was cut off as Haga took hold of his other arm.

“Maybe a day in the stocks will cool you down!”

_ Unlikely _ , Bakura thought as he kicked his leg directly upward, slamming Haga in the face. The Elite Guard immediately howled and let go, hands jumping up to his battered nose. With only one barely-a-man on him, Bakura easily got free, slamming Ryzuki into a nearby wall. He ran down the street without looking back. Haga and Ryzuki quickly recovered and went to chase after him, but Atem had other ideas. Raising his DiaDhank, he summoned one of his favorite monsters.

“Kuriboh,” he shouted, as the brown puffball materialized, “Multiply!”

“Kurrri!” the creature trilled as it split into dozens upon dozens of duplicates, which swamped the two guards.

“What the-”

“Get your hairy balls off me!”

“Oh my Ra!” Atem gasped, feigning shock. He found it hard to hide his grin, his mischief encouraged by the laughing crowd behind him. “Are you two alright?”

“Alright?” Haga snapped. His voice had risen an octave in frustration. “I’m drowning in Kuribohs, and you ask if I’m  _ alright _ ?”

“I am  _ so _ sorry,” Atem apologized, openly grinning now. He grabbed one of the bouncing Kuribohs, and wagged a finger at it. “Bad Kuriboh, you naughty Duel Monster!” Atem then turned back to the guards and sighed. “He’s just impossible, really. I can’t take him anywhere.” With a flash, the swarm disappeared and the two guards fell on their faces, groaning. Ryzuki was up first. He rubbed his head and then pulled out his own DiaDhank.

“You insolent little... I’ll teach you!” The DiaDhank flashed and a brown raptor with black stripes appeared. It bared its teeth at Atem, crimson eyes locked onto his every movement. But the soldier merely smirked.  _ Uraby? Really? _ He lifted his DiaDhank once again and a new monster appeared. This one was much more threatening than Kuriboh. It was a magician, clad from head to toe in purple armor. In his hand was a matching staff, a green gem glowing at its head. He aimed his staff at the dinosaur and the creature yelped. Ryzuki mimicked the sound and hid behind Haga. “D-D-Dark Magician?” he squeaked.

“But... the Dark Magician belongs to...” Haga’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he made the connection. “Lord Atem!” he gasped and fell to his knees. Ryzuki followed his lead, promptly banishing the dinosaur from sight.

“That’s my name,” Atem said, crossing his arms. He bent down so that he was at eye level with the two. “Now, I know you gentlemen have a lot on your mind but... The Realm of Shadows?”

“Y-yes sir!” the pair stuttered, before running off in what Atem assumed to be the direction of his new workplace. He sent Dark Magician away and began to follow. In front of him, wrapped in a dark cloth, was an old woman begging for coins. She was so bundled up, he couldn’t even make out a face. _Funny,_ Atem thought with a smirk, _I don’t remember seeing her before._ He picked up Bakura’s fallen coins, which lay forgotten on the cobblestone, and tossed them into the woman’s pouch with a knowing smile. As he continued down the street, the “woman” uncovered “her” head, revealing a shocked Bakura. _He gave my money back..._ _why?_ he wondered, studying the shrinking figure. _What could he have to gain?_

Atem felt the brown eyes piercing into his back, and smiled. Of one thing he was certain.

He would see Bakura again.


	6. Enlightening

_ Crack. _

“Ahhh!”

_ Crack. _

“URGH!”

_ Crack. _

“GAAAH!” Gozaburo sighed. This was getting tedious.

“Keith?” the judge inquired, calling his minion’s attention. The lashes stopped.

“Yeah, Boss?” A blonde head poked out of the doorway. The sweaty locks were tied back with a red, white, and blue cloth. Half his face was covered by mirrored goggles. They were splattered with blood.

“Ease up,” he ordered, “You have to wait between lashes. Otherwise the old sting will dull him to the new.” Keith nodded and ducked back into the chamber. Gozaburo brought his fingers together as the door behind him opened. “Ah, Lord Atem,” he greeted as he turned. “The gallant duelist is back from the wars, I see.” Atem stood with a straight back, hands clasped behind him. He looked nearly regal in his uniform. Dressed in an off white tunic, gold armor, and a violet cape, one could have mistaken him for the Pharaoh himself.

“Reporting for duty, as ordered, sir.” Gozaburo looked him over, walking in a circle to be sure to scan every angle. The young man looked promising, but that didn’t mean much. He had faith in results, and the kid certainly had them.

“Your service record precedes you, Atem.  I expect nothing but the best from a war hero of your calibre.”

“And you shall have it.” Atem was being to feel uncomfortable under the judge’s stare. It made his skin crawl. Still, he stood stoic as a statue, refusing to let Gozaburo get any hold over him. “I guarantee it, sir.” Gozaburo raised his eyebrows.

“Indeed. My last captain of the guard, , was quite the-” The whip cracked and a scream echoed through the halls. Atem visibly jumped, but the judge barely noticed the tortured cry. “-disappointment. But I’m sure you’ll whip my men into shape.” He gave the officer a catlike smile. Atem swallowed.

“Uh, thank you, sir, uh, very, uh, trem- uh, a tremendous honour, sir,” he stammered. Gozaburo took no notice to his impaired speech. Instead, he began to walk out toward the veranda, motioning for Atem to follow.

“You come to Domino in her darkest hour,” he said as he looked out over the city, “It will take a firm hand to save the weak-minded from being misled.” Atem frowned.

“Misled?”

“Look, Atem.” He gestured to the square below. People in colorful costumes were setting up tents and perfecting performances before the festival.

“I only see Yamis, sir.”

“Precisely,” Gozaburo growled. “Yamis live outside the natural order. Their heathen ways inflame the peoples’ lowest instincts, and even threaten to bring corruption to Kame Dame itself. They must be stopped.” Atem crossed his arms, causing the Millennium Puzzle to clink against his armor.

“I’m sorry. You mean to tell me I was called back from the war to capture duelists and magicians?” Gozaburo smirked.

“I’ll think you’ll find that the real war is here. For twenty years, I have battled the darkness that rages in the slums of Domino.” He trailed his fingers along the edge of the railing. He smashed the ants that were lazily trailing along the stone. “I’ve taken them out one... by... one...” He growled, and lifted the stone. It revealed a horde of ants, so many that they were piled on top of each other. Atem found it hard to believe such a kingdom thrived under the slate. “And yet, despite my successes, they thrive! Their culture spreads, and the people of Domino begin to not only tolerate them, but begin to  _ love _ them! We must end this. I believe they have a safe haven within the walls of this very city. They call it the Sennen Court.” Atem nodded. He knew the name well.

“And what do we going to do about it, sir?” With a flash of movement, Gozaburo slammed the stone onto the nest with a wet squelch. Atem paled.

“You make a vivid point sir.” Gozaburo flashed him yet another smile that made his stomach churn.

“You know, I like you, Lord Atem. Come, we have business to attend to.” Atem raised an eyebrow. No one had mentioned “business.”

“Sir?” Gozaburo recognized his confusion.

“Have you ever attended a pagan festival?”

“Not recently, sir.” But Atem remembered them. It was the Feast of Duels for crying outloud! The greatest attraction in Domino! Gozaburo, on the other hand, didn’t seem all too eager.

“Ah. Well then, today should be most... enlightening.”  
  


* * *

"Seto, Seto!" The brunette whirled around to face his younger brother. And instead, came face to face with a blonde psychopath.

“Hello Seto,” the man greeted with the flick of a tongue. Seto growled. He swore Marik mispronounced his name just to needle him. (And he was right.) However, before he could tell the puppeteer off with all the choice words that were running through his head, a black whirlwind clamped onto his leg. Mokuba looked up at him, beaming.

“I found him big brother!” Despite himself, Seto gave a small smile and ruffled his hair.

“Thanks Mokie. Can you do me another favor?” Mokuba nodded eagerly. Though he was touched by his brother’s loyalty, Seto couldn’t help but feel a bit melancholy. His brother was behaving like a soldier, which was the last thing Seto wanted. He wanted Mokuba to have the childhood he had missed out on. Still, this one favor wasn’t going to end the world. Quite the opposite, in fact. “Go have fun.” Mokuba squealed and ran over to the group of kids that seemed to follow Marik like shadows. They accepted the new playmate with a cheer, and immediately began a ridiculous game that involved idiocy and too much running. Seto found it surprising that he wished to join them.

“Hello Seto!” said another, higher voice from the same direction as Marik. Seto glanced down to see the puppet Marik always seemed to carry with him. The puppeteer looked at him expectantly. Seto sighed. Another day, he would have argued, but he didn’t have time to waste. But that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

“Hello Malik,” he replied with gritted teeth. Talking with a puppet. This had to be a new low. There was a second of awkward silence as Seto attempted to regain his calm.

“So,” Marik began, “You’re dueling.” He nodded to the silver and blue DiaDhank on Seto’s arm. Seto nodded.

“Yes, that was why I wanted to speak with you. I-” The words cut off as something seemed to be caught in his throat. What he was doing was dangerous. It was illegal for Yamis to own DiaDhanks. Apparently, they were dangerous enough without the ability to summon Duel Monsters. However, Seto was a special exception to that rule. The year after his parents disappeared, Seto had challenged Gozaburo to a duel. He was slowly beginning to starve (he gave what little food he could find to Mokuba) and with him gone, his little brother would be alone. He needed a way to make cash, and dueling was the only way he knew how to do it. By challenging Gozaburo, he had found a way in.

The judge accepted, of course. He never imagined a malnourished Yami child had a chance against a master such as himself. However, he also never imagined that the said Yami child would have one of the most powerful Duel Monsters known under his command; the Blue Eyes White Dragon. Suddenly, when Seto won, he became a known face. He had fans and admirers, people who wanted to see him duel again. He was no longer a Yami who could disappear without all of Domino noticing his access. Which meant Gozaburo couldn’t touch him.

Of course, it also meant he could never lose. The second the public was against him, the second Gozaburo had an excuse to get rid of him, he knew that he would be gone. And that was his greatest fear. Not for himself. He wouldn’t mind dying because he was a pain in Gozaburo’s ass. It would be an honor, really. No, he was scared for the one he was responsible for.

“Look, Marik. If something goes wrong-” Marik lifted his hand, ordering him to stop. Seto was so surprised he actually did.

“I’m sorry Seto, but if you lose, I am definitely going to demean you in front of your little brother. I wouldn’t be all too worried. He seems to love you, so I suppose everything will turn out alright.” Seto just stood there, with his mouth gaping. “Hon, you keep your mouth open like that and you’re gonna catch flies,” Marik informed him with a toothy smirk. He brushed past the shocked duelist without so much as a care. “Oh, and if you ever get that stick out of your ass and decide you want company,” Marik called over his shoulder, sticking out his tongue, “You and Mokuba are always welcome. Especially Mokuba. The other kids love him.” Without another word, he tackled a small child, effectively joining the game. Seto crossed his arms, royally pissed off, but grateful. He appreciated the unsaid promises the other Yami had given, the reassurances the man had supplied without saying anything of the sort.  _ Thank you. _ He turned to head back to his tent, intending on preparing for the day of dueling he had ahead of him. This turned out to be a mistake. For it meant he didn’t see Marik call the band of misfits into a huddle. He didn’t hear the frantic whispers or see the manic gestures, most of which were directed at him. And he definitely wasn’t prepared for the all out assault that followed him down the street. Only when the first child tackled him did he realize what trouble he was in.

* * *

Bakura ran his fingers through his hair.  _ It looks too... Nice.  _ He grimaced. What a terrible time for a good hair day. “I’m performing in front of the entire city and I look like a girl. Wonderful!” He wasn’t entirely wrong. Instead of his erratic spikes, his shoulder length hair gently curled into towards his face. It made him look soft, alluring even. He hated it.

“URGH!” He groaned, tempted to take the hand mirror and throw it across the room. He’d probably have another in seconds. He laughed at the thought.  _ Sure, everyday Yamis are harassed and arrested. But when they need us to perform at a festival, I’m in the lap of luxury. _ It was true. The tent was larger than any din he’d called home. The mirror hung from the ceiling, so that it was at eye height. Rugs lined the floor so his feet wouldn’t be dirtied by the ground. A tray of bread and grapes was provided, the best food Bakura had seen in months. He even had a stand to hold his costume and Millennium Ring. He felt a pang of guilt at that. Certainly, being a musical instrument was a downgrade for one of the most powerful magical items in history, but if it got him sweet gigs like this... 

“Frustrated, thief?” Instantaneously, Bakura somersaulted to the tray of food. He grabbed the knife that was sunk into the loaf and pointed at the person who had managed to sneak up on him. The intruder merely stuck his tongue out and licked it. Bakura only knew one person crazy enough to do that. He smirked.

“Marik. Long time no see.” Marik pouted.

“That’s it? I don’t see you for months, and that’s all you say? Don’t I get a hug?” He opened up his arms. Bakura growled.

“The things you make me do,” he grumbled as he reluctantly embraced his long time friend. “Where are your munchkins?” he asked, suddenly curious. He rarely saw the performer without them. Marik grinned.

“With Seto, actually.” Bakura burst into raucous laughter that would have made a sane man shiver.

“No! You got the big, bad Seto to  _ babysit _ ?” Bakura barked, barely able to stand. The idea of Seto running around, surrounded by children. “Please, get me a portrait of that.” He wiped tears from his eyes. “What about Malik? What does he have to say about Seto being anywhere near his little charges?” Bakura didn’t notice at first, but Marik darkened. His eyes lost their glint, becoming hard and serious. He straightened, no longer a storyteller, but a soldier who had seen too much.

“He’s gone.” Bakura’s head snapped up. The tent was silent now. All traces of laughter seemed to have evaporated.

“What do you mean  _ gone _ ?”

“What do you think I mean, you baka!” Marik screamed. The golden eye on his forehead seemed to grow brighter. He took a step forward, leaning threateningly over Bakura. “It means he’s gone! Incarcerated! Up the river! In the hole!  _ Gone! _ ” On this last word, Marik threw his Millennium Rod. It struck the mirror, shattering it into dust. “You know what it means when a Yami is gone.” His tone was bitter. And suddenly, words that had always been hard to say, that stung sharper than any blade, slipped across Bakura’s tongue with ease.

“I’m sorry.” Marik laughed like a sick dog.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“I never thought I’d say it.” Silence returned to the room. Neither of them knew what to say. There were no words. Marik walked over and picked on the Rod, unfazed by the shards of glass.

“I need to go.  _ Someone _ has to keep Seto from killing the children.” Without waiting for a reply, Marik was gone. Bakura was rather pissed. Marik had broken the one thing in the room that would shatter. So he took the next best option. He lifted the small table holding the food, and slammed it into the ground.

“THAT BASTARD!” he shouted. He pleased by the crash of splintering wood.  _ I will kill Gozaburo, and any of his lackeys if they so much as touched Malik. _ It was true, he didn’t know Malik as well or as long as he had known Marik. But he knew enough. The kid had gone through enough shit without Gozaburo coming in and screwing everything to hell. Malik didn’t deserve this and neither did Marik.  _ And it pisses me the fuck off. _ Glancing across the room to his costume, he was suddenly struck with a wonderful idea. A humorless smirk crept to his face.  _ Oh, Gozaburo. You are going to pay. _ Maybe his good hair day wasn’t so bad after all.

* * *

Marik stormed out of the tent with a migraine.  _ Damn thief. Never knew when to shut his mouth. _ He was drowning in memories of that day. He could still hear Malik screaming at him as the guards dragged him away. Not for help. Not for Marik to rush in and save him. Oh no. The damn boy had the nerve to tell him to run. To get out of there and protect the kids. Clearly, he loved Malik too much, because he had listened.

He regretted the decision everyday after. Honestly, it had probably been the best choice. Even with the Rod, Marik couldn’t have taken the Elite Guard on his own. The most likely outcome would have been the Elite Guards ending up with two captives and a Millennium item.  _ But at least I would be with him _ , Marik thought with a sigh. Not knowing was the worst. He had seen the effects of the Realm of Shadows. Death was one of the nicer punishments. Chances were, if he ever saw Malik again, the boy most likely wouldn’t even remember himself, much less Marik. “Ra damn son of a bitc-”

“Marik?” a familiar voice called to him. Marik looked over his shoulder to see his little brunette fanboy.

“What’s up, kiddo?” He asked, his normal smirk immediately back in place. The kid wasn’t buying it. He crossed his arms.

“You’re thinking about Malik, aren’t you?” Marik took a deep breath, resisting the urge to facepalm. The boy, who couldn’t have been more than six, sounded like his mother.

“Uh... No?” The boy giggled.

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I am a fantastic liar, thank you very much!” The kid giggled again, but dropped the subject.

“You shouldn’t worry. He’ll come back.”

“How do you know?” The question was out of his mouth before he could process what he was saying.  _ Oh Ra. I’m turning into a sap. _ But the youth didn’t seem to care.

“Because,” he began, tone showing how obvious this was, “He loves you. And you love him. So everything will be okay!” His smile was blinding, and Marik found himself unable to break the kid’s heart. So he sighed instead.

“I hope so kid. I really hope so.”


	7. The Feast of Duels

_ Oh Ra, what am I doing?  _ Ryou thought for about the hundredth time that day. This was absolutely ridiculous. There was no way in heaven or hell this was going work. And yet... Here he was, sneaking out of the cathedral, dressed as a priest. Now, that part hadn’t exactly been his idea. More like something the Hikaris had suckered him into.

He wasn’t going to go out after his master told him not to. He really wasn’t. However his friends had other plans. As soon as he had come back from his “rooftop tryst” as they called it, the three statues began shoving garments at him.

The clothes were simple, the normal attire for any of the priests of the cathedral. The robe and cap both held the image of a golden ankh. A cape was attached to the main robe, long enough to reach Ryou’s waist. They had even managed to get their hands on one of the matching staffs. And the entire outfit was blindingly white. It seemed as though it was mocking him.

But, he had to admit; it was brilliant on the part of the Hikaris. The large, loose-fitting outfit managed to cover most of the shadows, and the ones near his face and neck were now barely noticeable. Of course, with the disguise, climbing down the decorative patterns and statues of Hikaris became infinitely more difficult. He continually got his legs tangled in the cloth and the cloak seemed to be magnetized to his face. As he brushed it out of his face yet  _ again _ , he caught sight of the figures above him. Honda gave him a short wave, Yuugi was beaming a reassuring smile, and Jou winked and offered him a thumbs up. Ryou returned a grin. He would have waved, but couldn’t risk letting go. He was trying to use his shadows as discretely as possible, which meant using as much of his physical strength as he could. Besides, he wanted to get down as soon as possible. He could hear the celebration beginning.

“ _ Come one, come all! _ ” A procession of flag bearers, dressed as members of the royal court, made their way down the street. Everyone who was taking part in the duels had to join. Even Seto was dressed as a high priest, though he looked ready to kill anyone stupid enough to point this out. No one did. It was the Feast of Duels. Today was the day any measure would be taken; any line would be crossed, all for the sake of dueling.

“ _ Leave your loops and milking stools. Coop the hens and pen the mules. _ ” The entire city had shut down, everyone focused on the event that had been awaited all year.

Ryou finally reached the lowest balcony. Strands of flags were haphazardly tied along the railing. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to one of the ropes.  _ I’m actually doing this _ , he thought, surprised, then smiled. In a few moments, his feet would touch the ground. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait. The task that had once seemed so daunting in his mind now felt like child’s play. He gave the rope a tug, pleased to find it was sturdy, before placing the staff over the rope. He placed a hand on either side, then leapt off the balcony. He laughed as he soared above the festivals, and landed at a post.

“ _ Come one, come all! _ ” Ryou let his momentum swing him around, leaning away from the pole to get a better view. However, that was when he made his first mistake. He reached up instinctively, grabbing the rope with both hands and balanced his feet on the post. The knot came undone under his weight. With a startled cry, he began swinging toward the center of the square.

“ _ Close the churches and the schools. It's the day to screw the rules! _ ” The procession formed a line along the road as they sang. None took any notice as a boy with white hair landed in front of them. They were waiting for the show.

“ _ Come and join the feast of... _ ” Marik flew out from underneath their legs, holding the Millennium Rod high as he sang the final word.

“ _ Duels! _ ” He leapt to his feet, flashing a wild grin toward the crowd. They roared at his appearance. Marik blew kisses to the crowd and somehow the cheering managed to get even louder. Marik noticed a teen nervously standing in the middle of the square.  _ Looks like I have a partner _ , he thought with a grin.

“ _ Once a year we throw a party here in town! _ ” he belted as he took the boy’s arm. He spun him in a circle. The teen gasped in fear, but Marik ignored him. He was having fun. “ _ Once a year we turn Domino upside down. Ev'ry Yami's a king and ev'ry king's a clown. Once again it's Dueling Crazy Day _ .” He release Ryou and the boy went spinning into the crowd. The mob parted for him, allowing him to stumble into a tent, nearly knocking it over. Marik, however, didn’t notice the distress he caused. He was still playing the crowd. Jumping forward into a handspring, he flipped and leapt to grab a flagpole. He clamped tightly with his legs and dangled upside down.

“ _ It's the day the Ka within us gets released. It's the day, it’s time to duel both man and beast. Ev'ryone is dueling crazy at the Feast of Duels! _ ”

Ryou toppled backwards with a shout, trying to grab at anything to keep himself from falling. He snatched a hanging curtain, but his momentum was too much. With a horrific tear, the drape fell, taking Ryou with it.

“What the fuck!” Bakura shouted, quickly wrapping himself in his robe. He still had another ten minutes before he needed to make his entrance! “Marik, what are you-” The indignant accusation vanished when he turned around. At first, Bakura could barely look at him without shielding his eyes. The figure was blinding. White robes, white hair, white skin... If Bakura actually believed any sort of religious bullshit, he’d say it was an angel. An angel that was currently cowering and inching backwards toward the corner of the tent.

“I-I... I’m sorry! I- I didn’t mean to...” Ryou flailed his arms, trying to get out from under the curtain that was smothering him. He needed to get out of here. Bakura crossed his arms, but walked forward toward the boy.

“Damn, that was quite the fall. Are you alright?” He asked. Without waiting for a reply, he lifted the hood, ignoring the cries of protest. He revealed the intruder’s face and the biggest, brownest eyes Bakura had ever seen.  _ Shit. _ For the first time in his life, Bakura was speechless.

Thankfully, he was able to recover gracefully.

“See? No harm done. Just... Be careful?” That was the kind of advice people gave in these situations, right? He took the teen’s arm and lifted him to his feet.

“I-I-I will,” Ryou stammered, still in shock himself.  _ He... He doesn’t hate me. He touched me... _ Ryou could feel his cheeks heating up, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Dazed, he wandered out of the tent.

“By the way,” Bakura called after him, spurred by some unknown impulse, “Great costume.” He winked, delighted by the growing blush on the shorter boy’s face.  _ He looks just like the White Mage _ , he chuckled, and went back inside.

On the other side of the square, a different plot was unfolding. Led by Atem, the Elite Guards marched forward in a V-formation. The captain looked out over the crowd.

“Haga, Ryzuki, go left. Ghost, head to the right. Keith, stay with me. We will guard Judge Gozaburo.” Though they huffed and shot him looks of disdain, they listened. “I can feel the love,” he mumbled, before give an all clear. Directly behind them, the iron carriage, fit to hold death itself, creaked to a stop. With an air of grandeur, Gozaburo threw open the door. Near him, the celebration quieted; the people were afraid that so much as a shout could get them arrested. Scowling, the tall man ignored them. He stalked over and up the steps of the main stage, making it very clear that he’d rather be anywhere but here. Cracking his knuckles, he perched on the throne in the center of the stage, preparing himself for the torturous hours ahead.

“ _ Come one, come all! _ ” The voice came from nowhere and everywhere, making Gozaburo (though he would never admit it) jump. “ _ Hurry, hurry, here's your chance. See the myst'ry and romance! _ ” Tan hands appeared on his shoulder. Warm breath tickled his ear. Gozaburo rolled his eyes. _ It was that damn Yami, Marik.  _ He was about to call for the minstrel to be taken away, but as though sensing the danger, the nuisance left, walking up to the edge of the stage. It was rather large, with a runaway down the center. The crowd was packed as tightly as possible, all trying to get a good view.

“ _ Come one, come all! _ ” Marik addressed the crowd now, and they hung on his every word. “ _ Make an entrance to entrance! You’ll want to get in his pants. _ ”

“MARIK!” hissed a voice only the blonde could hear. But the shout of protest was ignored. Marik was in the midst of his art.

“ _ Dance Bakura-san, now dance! _ ” As he shouted, he threw something down. The audience gasped as a red cloud of smoke engulfed him. Marik was gone, and in his place was a scantily clad Bakura. He wore a crimson robe that fell to his ankles, though his chest was bare. He wore a cream knee-length shendyt, adorned with a navy sash. In one hand he held his Millennium Ring and in the other he was twirling a golden cloth.

Gozaburo couldn’t stop his eyes from widening.  _ Oh Gods... Why must you tempt me so? _ The dancer before him... For a brief moment, the judge thought it was Ryou who had joined him on stage. Long white hair, reaching down his back, curling in softly towards his face... Gozaburo had seen it before. But no, this man was different. His eyes were hard. They had lost all the innocence Ryou possessed. Gozaburo licked his lips at the thought.

Bakura slinked forward, attempting to make his movements as slow and sensual as possible. Considering the drool that was coming from Gozaburo, it was working.  _ Got you, you bastard. _ A smile danced across his lips as he turned, shaking the Ring. The crowd was silent now, entranced by the precise movements. With a sudden change of pace, Bakura dropped the ring and cartwheeled to the foot of the throne. Gozaburo backed away, leaving enough room for Bakura to sit next to him. He wrapped the scarf around Gozaburo’s neck, forcing the man closer to him. Bakura ran a hand along his chin, and felt the judge’s breath hitch. Bakura leaned in, just out of reach, before draping the cloth over his head and spinning away. He heard the man growl as he pulled the scarf off his face, and Bakura flicked his cape at him, daring him to act.

When Gozaburo didn’t react, Bakura ran along the edge of the stage. He ripped a spear from Bandit Keith’s hand as he passed, then used it to vault himself upwards. It stuck in the ground as he spun around it, slowly winding down to end in the splits. Coins showered the stage, and Marik reappeared from the wings.

“And now for the main event!  _ Here it is, the moment you've been waiting for. Here it is, you know exactly what's in store. Now's the time we cheer until our throats get sore. Now's the time we crown the King of Duels! _ ” The crowd roared its approval. “You all remember last year’s king?” Marik shouted. He gestured over to a man held on the shoulders of four people. At least, Marik assumed it was a man. With the giant Zorc costume on, it was hard to tell.

“ _ So make a face that's horrible and frightening. Make a face as gruesome as a Red Eyes' wing! _ ” (On a side note, this was the point that both Yuugi and Honda had to restrain Jou and keeping from going to knock Marik’s lights out.) “ _ For the face most monstrous will be the King of Duels! _ ” Slowly, many of the people dressed as monsters made their way to the stage. Bakura easily spotted the all white boy who had fallen into his tent earlier.  _ That kid would win it all. _

“You!” He shouted, pointing at him. Ryou blanched.

“M-me? N-no, I can’t-” Unfortunately for Ryou, the fan favorite dancer would not be denied. Dozens of hands swelled from the sea of people, lifting him upward. He surged forward into Bakura’s waiting arms. The Yami wrapped his arms around the smaller teen’s waist and hoisted him onto the stage. Ryou clung to his cloak, first from fear of falling, then from fear of the crowd.  _ All those people...  _ He thought with a gulp,  _ They’re all looking at me! _

“Hey, Creampuff.” Ryou’s eyes snapped up. Bakura placed a hand on his chin. “You stand right here, look pretty, and trust me, you’ll be king in no time.” Bakura couldn’t help the grin that came to his lips as the boy turned bright red.  _ He sure does blush a lot. _

“Bakura!” Marik called from the other end of the line. The competition was about to begin.

“I have to go, but I’ll be right back.” Without another world, he sprinted toward the puppeteer. He flipped into a handspring and landed next to Marik with ease.

“ _ Dueling Crazy! _ ” sang the crowd, eager to judge the people onstage. The first man was dressed as the Celtic Guardian. When Bakura and Marik gestured to him, he struck a heroic pose, sword high in the air. The crowded square erupted in boos. The costume wasn’t bad, but this man wasn’t their king.

“ _ Monster friends, forget your shyness! _ ” Marik called to the crowd, voice like honey drawing in flies. The next contestant walked forward.

“ _ Dueling Crazy! _ ” The crowd chanted.

She was a brunette was dressed as the Dark Magician Girl. She had the costume nearly perfect. Her hairstyle was practically identical to that of the Duel Monsters. Still, though a few people sent her catcalls, the overall response was negative. She wasn’t the one they wanted.  _ And, considering how all eyes are locked on the boy at the end, _ Bakura thought with a smirk,  _ I think I know what they’re waiting for. _

“ _ You could soon be called Your Highness! _ ” Marik assured the contestants as Bakura spun the Dark Magician Girl off the platform. However, Marik’s statement was beginning to seem unlikely. One by one, Marik introduced the monsters, the audience turned them down, and Bakura ejected them off stage. Until, of course, the pair got to Ryou.

Immediately, the crowd went wild.

“ _ Put your foulest features on display! Be the king of Dueling Crazy Day! _ ” They sang.

“We want to see his face!” A man yelled.

“Take off the hat!”

“Let us see the king!”

“N-no!” Ryou shouted as Bakura took the cap. Both Yamis gasped at the sight. The once hidden shadows flowed down around him. They spilled out over the robes, no longer able to be contained. They stretched out, reaching for Marik, Bakura, and the crowd, curious to examine the new faces. “Oh no...” Ryou moaned, as the crowd, which was slowly becoming more like a mob, erupted in cries of horror and disgust.

“Is that shadow magic?”

“That’s no costume...”

“He’s a real monster!”

“It’s the bell ringer of Kame Dame!” Gozaburo was livid.

“Ryou!” The white-haired boy stared at his feet, terrified of what would happen next. Marik, sensing the possibility of losing all control, stepped in front of the former contestant.

“Now, now,” he beckoned, calling for calm, “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t panic! We asked for the most monstrous face in Domino, and here he is.” He took Ryou’s hand, lifting it high above their heads. “I present Ryou, the Bell Ringer from Kame Dame!” Bakura walked up behind them and gently sent a golden crown on Ryou’s head.

“Here you go, your majesty,” Bakura murmured in his ear. He gave a playful bow, before backing away. Ryou turned to see where he went, but was swallowed by the crowd. A multitude of hands grabbed his arms, robes, anything they could, and vaulted him toward the sky. “Whoa!” Ryou shouted with a stifled gasp. The group holding him filed in line behind Marik. He lifted his staff, twirling it like a baton.

“ _ Ev'rybody _ !” He shouted, and the parade began.  

“ _ Once a year we throw a party here in town _ ,” the congregation shouted, echoing Marik’s earlier words.

“ _ Hail to the king! _ ” Marik ordered, and indeed, people along the side of the street bowed. Ryou was crimson at this point, finding it impossible that this was happening. He pinched himself, incredibly pleased when he didn’t wake up.  _ This is actually happening. _

“ _ Once a year we turn Domino upside down! _ ”

“ _ Oh, what a king! _ ” Marik added. They passed by Gozaburo and his guards. Ryou offered a sheepish wave. Atem nodded and smiled, giving him a small salute (he was the king after all) but the others only glared. Gozaburo clenched his hands into fists.

“ _ Once a year, the monstrous will wear a crown! _ ”

Ryou began eagerly waving. For whatever reason, girls (and some of the boys) would squeal when he made eye contact with them. A few even fainted. Ryou briefly wondered if there was something wrong with the food.

“ _ Girls, give a kiss! _ ” The blonde minstrel had Ryou lowered to the ground just long enough for Anzu Mazaki and Mai Kujaku to plant a kiss on both his cheeks. Ryou’s cheeks instantly ignited again.

“ _ Once a year on Dueling Crazy Day! _ ”

Marik leapt up onto a tall wooden platform. It was smaller than the stage, normally only used hanging and public floggings, but today was a special day. “ _ We've never had a king like this _ ,” the puppeteer sang with a grin. He took Ryou’s hand and yanked him up. He wrapped an arm around the King of Duels and pinched his cheek before turning back to the awaiting masses.

“ _ And it's the day we cherish things that we deplore on the other three hundred and sixty-four. Once a year we love to drop in where the duels are never stoppin’ for the chance to pick a king who'll put the "top" in our Top Dueling Day! _ ” At this, Marik bounded off the stage, leaving Ryou alone to bask in adoration. A chant ran through the crowd.

“RYOU! RYOU!” And Ryou blushed and smiled, eliciting attentive “Aw”s from his new admirers. He had never been so happy in as long as he could remember.

It’s funny that those happiest moments are the most fragile.


	8. Justice

While everyone else was cheering and celebrating, Keith and Ghost had moved to the side. "Think he's scary now?" Keith asked, snickering. "Watch this." He picked up a tomato from a nearby stand and chucked it at Ryou. The effect was instantaneous. The crowd went silent. The projectile clocked Ryou upside the head, leaving him disoriented. Black spots swam in his vision. The tomato had exploded on impact, coating his face in red juice that looked like blood.

"Now that's scary!" Keith cackled.

"Long live the king!" Haga cried, letting loose another tomato. This one hit Ryou's chest, splattering like a gaping wound over his heart. Ryou stumbled backward, stunned by the blow.

"Wh- why?" He stammered, trying to wipe off his face.

"Hail to the king!" yelled a voice from the crowd, and another tomato hit his cheek. The crowd was laughing now, enjoying the spectacle put before them. They came to see a show, and it was turning into a damn good one. Soon, all sorts of produce were being chucked at Ryou. He cowered, attempting to make himself a smaller target.

"Pl- please, stop," he whispered. He scrambled backwards, trying to find a way off the platform.

"Where you going,  _ monster _ ?" shouted a boy with green hair. He had a rope in his hand. With impeccable aim, he threw the noose so it caught around Ryou's neck. "The fun's just beginning!" With the help of his nearly identical brothers, the boy tugged the rope down, dragging Ryou to the floor. Ryou's hands tugged at the snare, attempting to get any air into his strained lungs. Tears fell down his cheeks, though if they were from despair or asphyxiation he wasn't sure. Another rope flew over and snatched Ryou's wrist, he tugged against it, but wasn't strong enough to stop them. Something, some do or die instinct buried deep in Ryou, snapped.

" _ NO! _ " he shrieked, and his shadows came to life. They tore through the binds on him, but more instantly took their place. He couldn't keep up. Someone must have snuck up behind him, because the next thing he knew, he was on his knees, stars dancing across his vision. He couldn't bring himself to move as they tied him to the platform, then left, leaving him a defenseless target to the pelleting and jeers.

"Master!" He cried out, praying Gozaburo would hear him, "Master, help me!"

Gozaburo did in fact hear him, and smirked. Atem took a step forward, summoning Dark Magician to his side.

"Sir, permission to stop this cruelty." It wasn't really a request, for Atem had no doubt that Gozaburo would let him do so. This was horrible, something no true follower of the gods, no believer in the Heart of the Cards, would allow to happen. Therefore, he was already leaving the stand when Gozaburo spoke.

"No, captain." Atem froze in his tracks.

"No?"

"Just wait a moment." The leader of the guards frowned, but Dark Magician faded away.

"May I ask why, sir?" Gozaburo smiled at him, and Atem shivered.

"There is a lesson that needs to be learned here." Atem was about to argue, say that he was pretty sure the lesson already had been learned, when a gasp ran through the crowd. Then everyone fell silent.

* * *

Bakura ran his fingers through his hair as he stepped out of the tent. He had changed back into his trench coat and striped tunic, happy to be out of his performance outfit. Though he normally didn't mind the attention of admirers, but the way Gozaburo had stared at him made him feel sick. Of course, all thoughts of Gozaburo and the hungry look in his eyes flew out of his head once he saw the scene before him.

"Oh Ra." Ryou was atop the same platform where he had been declared king. The crown had been knocked from his head and instead laid beside his feet. His forehead and hair were stained red, and Bakura found himself praying it wasn't blood. The bell ringer was kneeling while the crowd threw rotten produce at him, head bent down.  _ Why is he just sitting there, taking it?  _ Bakura wondered, before he realized the true extent of the situation. Ryou wasn't just kneeling. He was  _ tied down. _ His ankles were roped to the boards of the platform and his arms were restrained behind him.

Bakura scanned the crowd for Marik. He wasn't too hard to find.  _ Just scan the crowd for a tall guy with the tallest hair. _ The puppeteer caught his eyes. Bakura must have had that look, that look Marik said could scare devil, because Marik quickly shook his head, as if saying, " _ Don't do it, it's not worth it _ ." But Bakura was already moving, already forcing his way through the crowd. The normal townsfolk glared at him, but the Yamis looked on with knowledge, perhaps even sadness.

Marik shook his head, and Bakura could practically hear the curses that were streaming through his mind. He passed Shadi, his usual flute player, and was surprised when the older man placed a hand on his shoulder, as if in blessing. He had always had the feeling Shadi wasn't all too fond of him. Then again, even Seto gave him a nod as he passed. The two brothers were off in a corner of the square, away from the crowd. Seto probably was there so that he could get his little brother out of here as quickly as possible if shit hit the fan. And, considering what Bakura was about to do, it was going to do just that.

It was a stupid plan, he knew that.

But Bakura was angry. No, forget angry. He was pissed as fuck! He was pissed at the crowd, for treating someone so defenseless this way. He was pissed at the guards for the way they treated people like Ryou and himself, not only ignoring their torment, but for instigating it. He was pissed at the Captain of the Guard for wearing that damn Puzzle. He was pissed at Gozaburo for existing. He had been pissed nearly his entire life. Since the events that took place are Kul Elna… He'd be damned if anyone else would be hurt by these bastards.

When he stepped up on the platform, the crowd gasped and went silent. Ryou looked up in surprise, wondering what had changed. When he noticed Bakura, his head ducked down again. He wished hell would open and swallow him up.  _ It would be less painful than this torment,  _ he thought. Bakura slowly walked over to the boy, aware of every eye that was on him. He didn't mind. He liked being in the spotlight. It was easier to make a point that way.

As he knelt down, Ryou leaned away, as though expecting to be hit. Bakura placed a hand on his cheek and lifted his face so their eyes met.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here to help." He ran a finger along the boy's jawline and let out a bitter chuckle. "I'm sorry, Creampuff. This wasn't supposed to happen." He chuckled again as Ryou blushed. "Really,  _ that _ embarrasses you?" He said as he trailed his fingers through the stained white hair. He plucked some bits of tomato out of it before it became a total rat's nest.

"YOU! Yami!" Bakura turned and got to his feet. Gozaburo was shouting at him, face already beet red. "Get down at once!"

"Yes,  _ your honor _ ," he replied, voice laced with sarcasm, "Just as soon as I free him."

"I forbid it!" the judge barked. Bakura rolled his eyes, and pulled out his knife.  _ Since when have I followed orders before?  _ In a blinding flash, the ropes fell off of Ryou. The boy gasped in surprised, but made no other movement.

"How  _ dare _ you defy me!" Gozaburo shouted.

"You mistreat this poor boy the same way you mistreat my people. You speak of justice and purity, yet you are cruel to those most in need of your help!" Bakura shouted back.

"Silence!"

"Justice!" Bakura cried, raising his fist. He grabbed Ryou's hand, and helped the boy to his feet. He squeezed the pale hand and shot him a reassuring grin.

"Mark my words, Yami," Gozaburo growled. He rose to his full height, glowering across the square. "You will pay for this insolence!"

"Oh, I see," Bakura smirked. He bent over and picked up the golden crown, wiping it off as he spoke. "Then, it appears we crowned the wrong monster, Lord Gozaburo. The only monster I see here is  _ you _ !" He threw the crown, letting it soar over the crowd. It landed at the judge's feet with a clang.

"Captain Atem, arrest him!" Gozaburo was absolutely livid. Atem sighed, but waved the guards forward. The Elite Guard surrounded Bakura, each them summoning a monster. Bakura began counting.

"So there's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Eight of you and one of me." He sniffled and pulled a handkerchief from his coat. "Oh, what's a poor boy to do?" He wiped his eyes, then quickly blew his nose. He vanished in a column of shadows as the guards leapt on the stage. Gozaburo gasped.

"Shadow magic," he growled. The insurgent was not only a Yami, but a witch as well. Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Dark laughter echoed around him, though no one else seemed to take notice. Gozaburo growled.  _ Bakura.  _ He turned to Atem.

"Find him, Captain! I want him alive…" Atem nodded.

"Yes sir! Seal off the area, men!" He shouted to the guards. They were still squabbling on the center platform, each one insisting that the other had let Bakura escape. "Find the Yami boy!" At his command, they snapped to attention, eyes glinting maliciously. Atem raised an eyebrow. "And do not harm him." They visibly sighed, but released their Duel Monsters.

Meanwhile, Gozaburo had mounted his massive black stallion. He rode forward, without regard for those in his way. The crowd scrambled away from him, parting before him like a king. He felt a thrill of pleasure at their subservience. However, the true subservience he craved stood before him, on the platform.

Ryou was a mess. The robe was torn as a result of his attempts to escape, giving Gozaburo a nice view of his legs and chest. He had rope burns on his neck, wrists, and ankles. And, what Gozaburo found to be the most delicious, he was clearly trying not to cry. He looked at the approaching judge and quickly bowed his head.

"I'm sorry, Master," he whispered, "I will never disobey you again." Gozaburo nodded, and rode on. He had a Yami to catch, and didn't have time to deal with his foolish charge.

Ryou slowly made his way down the platform. The crowd cleared the way for him too, but not in the same way they had made room for Gozaburo. There was no sense of respect, no sense of fear and awe. They cleared the way for Ryou the same way they would clear the way for a leper: out of disgust and fear for their own safety.

The white-haired boy slowly trudged up the stair to the cathedral. Every movement hurt. It felt like he had been run over by a cart. When he reached the tall wooden doors, he hesitated. He truly didn't want to go back. He glanced over his shoulder, and cringed. The stares of disgust, hatred, and pure morbid curiosity burned through him. As quickly as he could manage, he yanked the door open and ran inside, barely caring when the long held tears finally fell.


	9. Doubt

Mokuba was really getting sick of this whole "drag the kid all over Domino without any explanation" thing. It was turning into quite the bad habit on his brother’s part. And Mokuba, for one, had had enough. He dug his heels into the cobblestone streets.

"Mokuba!" Seto shouted, clearly annoyed, "What are you doing?" He tugged on the boy's arm but Mokuba yanked it back from his grasp.

"That's it, big brother." He glared and crossed his arms. "Tell me what's going on. Right now."

"We don't have time for that!" It was taking all of Seto's strength not to snap at the preteen. "Just... Come on!" He reached for his brother, but Mokuba easily evaded him. The kid might not have been as strong as his brother, but he was fast.

"No. I'm not going to move a single step until you tell me what the hell is going on!" Seto opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. He recognized his brother's expression. He had felt the same one on his own face many times before. Hard eyes, strong jaw, proud chin... The kid wasn't moving. Seto would have been proud if they weren't in such a hurry. But, as it was, he was merely pissed off.

“Mokuba, we don’t have time for this!”

“Then you better hurry up.” Seto sighed and rubbed his temples. He could feel the migraine blooming in his brain.

“Fine. Gozaburo is about to start a shitstorm, and we need to get the hell out.” That got his little brother’s attention. Mokuba visibly paled, his eyes swelling with his fear. Out of nervous habit, he clutched the pendant around his neck.

“How do you know?”

“Because-”

_ Because I saw the look in his eyes as Bakura danced for him, then shamed him. I saw those malicious eyes hardened, then ignite with dark fire. I saw the look of a man who will not stop until the object of his attention lies in ash. The same look he gave to me when I beat him. _

“Because I just do.” Mokuba bit his lip, weighing their options. He was on board with Seto, that much was agreed upon. As much as his older brother tried to shield him, he had seen enough of Gozaburo’s wrath to know how serious this could be.

“Then we go to the Sennen Court.”

“No!” Mokuba jumped, surprised by the anger in his brother’s voice.

“But... It’s the safest place for any Yami-”

“No, Mokuba,” Seto growled. The Sennen Court was anything but safe. Every Yami in the city knew where it was. All it would take would be for Gozaburo to put a knife to the right throat, slip a sack of coins into the right hand, and it’d be over. Mokuba gazed up at him, confused.

“Well, then where do we go?” Seto looked over his shoulder. Off in the distance, he could spot a windmill lazily turning.

“I know a place.”

* * *

Bakura scanned the crowd from under his veil of hair.  _ I suppose this white hair does have one benefit,  _ he thought to himself. With a hunched back and dark cloak wrapped around his features, he was able to pass as an elder. No one looked at him twice, figuring him to be yet another old beggar. He spotted no danger as he headed forward. Then, from behind a row of tents, he heard the cry. “Over here men! I heard something!”

_ Shit!  _ That was Keith, and Bakura knew that as the least incompetent of Gozaburo’s Elite Bumblers, the guard could very well realize who he was. And it sounded like he was coming nearer. He moved as fast as he dared, not wanting to call attention to himself. He hobbled up the steps of the cathedral, and dashed inside, fully ready to wait the bastards out. However, in his haste, he never noticed the eyes that followed him.

“Whoa...” he mumbled, as the door shut behind him. The cathedral was huge, bigger than he had expected. Rows of stone pillars, ten times bigger than himself, lined the way to the altar. The tile floor was polished so that he could see his reflection. Dozens of candelabras on tall stands littered the room, illuminating the mahogany pews. 

Part of him wanted to scoff, scorn the large display of wealth in one building while the poor out in Domino starved, though he could not bring himself to mean it. The cathedral was a product of better times and... It felt right, somehow. The silent aura in the church hugged to him, giving him comfort he hadn’t felt in years. He unwrapped his coat from his head, letting his hair fall down his back. He didn’t need it in here, something else watched over him. He almost wanted to smile.

That vanished, of course, when the idiot captain of the guard attempted to sneak up behind him.

“Baka,” Bakura muttered, before whirling around and grabbing the sword from the man’s belt. He relished in the look of genuine surprise on the soldier's face. In one delicate moment, he lifted the point of the blade to his opponent’s neck and rested it there.

“Easy,” the other man warned, “I just shaved this morning.” Bakura glared at him.

“Oh really?” He said with fake surprise. “It looks like you missed a spot!” He applied a tad more pressure to the point, making sure the imbecile knew how screwed he was.

“All right, all right!” An edge of panic laced the reply. “Calm down. Just give me a chance to apologize.” Bakura blinked.

“Apologize for what?” One stupid second. He let his guard slip for one stupid second, truly intrigued by the captain's comment. It was enough time for the soldier to grab the blade and pull it away from his neck. He then jerked the sword forward, bringing Bakura close enough to knock him off his feet. Bakura hissed.

“You sneaky, son of a-”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The guard said with a grin. He wagged his finger as if speaking to a naughty child. “You’re in a church.” Bakura didn’t reply, merely leaping to his feet and grabbing the nearest candelabra. He viciously swung, nearly setting the guard’s purple cape aflame. The captain parried with his sword, still smiling.

“Candlelight, privacy, music,” the captain noted, glancing around, “I can’t think of a better place for hand to hand combat.” He blocked another one of Bakura’s attacks, but only by a hair. He whistled, impressed. “You fight almost as well as an Elite Guard.” Bakura rolled his eyes.

“Psh, don’t insult me.” The shorter man stiffened.

“That's hitting a little below the belt, don't you think?”

“No, this is!” Bakura slammed the candelabra towards the guard’s crotch. The captain jumped out of the way, before swinging his sword around the staff. He forced it from Bakura’s hands.

“Look, now, I just want to-  _ ooh! _ ” The captain let out a grunt of pain as a golden flash slammed across his face. He fell backwards, stunned by the unexpected blow. He looked up to see Bakura smirking as he twirled his Ring. The captain raised an eyebrow.

“Isn’t it a little early in our relationship for you to give me a ring?”

“I like to move fast.” The Ring twitched, as though Bakura was about to strike. The captain raised his hands in surrender.

“We got off on the wrong foot. I’m Atem. It means ‘completion.’” Bakura was still glowering, but he lowered his weapon.

“Is this an interrogation?” Atem shook his head, chuckling.

“No, it’s called an introduction.”

“You’re not arresting me?”

“Not as long as you're in here. I can't.” Crossing his arms, Bakura looked him over. He seemed sincere. Of course, he knew the guards were notorious liars, but he had always been able to tell. With Atem, he saw no indications of malice, no trace of deceit. Only curiosity, and perhaps... something more.

“You... You’re not like the other soldiers,” he said slowly. He knew that much was true, but what that meant, he wasn’t sure. Atem grinned.

“Thank you.” Bakura raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his amusement.  _ Maybe he isn’t  _ completely _ awful. _

“So, if you’re not going to arrest me, what do you want?” The grin widened a bit before vanishing completely.

"Hm..." He murmured, pretending to think. He then lit up, like he had just discovered a cure for the common cold. "Ah! How 'bout a name?" Bakura shook his head.  _ You silly baka _ , he thought with a chuckle.

"Bakura," the white-haired Yami supplied.

"Bakura," Atem repeated, smiling at the way it fell from his lips. "It's certainly elegant enough to fit you. Much smoother than Atem, anyways." Before Bakura could growl at the fact that he had been described in such a feminine manner, a deep voice echoed through the cathedral.

“Good work captain! Now arrest him!” Atem froze. He would recognize that voice anywhere, even though he first heard it only days ago.  _ Shit, shit,  _ shit!

“Claim sanctuary,” Atem whispered as loud as he dared. Bakura instead looked over the captain’s shoulder and glared. There, in all his red robed assholery, was Gozaburo Kaiba. “Do it!” Atem urged, trying to capture the attention of Yami standing before him. Bakura bristled.

“You tricked me!” He yelled, jamming his finger in Atem’s face. Atem was about to reply, when Gozaburo spoke once again.

“I’m waiting.  _ Captain. _ ” His voice was laced with venom, and it was clear that if Atem didn’t do something, things were about to fall apart.  _ Oh, screw it!  _ he thought, quickly making up his mind.

“I’m sorry sir,” He said as he turned, hoping Gozaburo didn’t notice the way he placed himself in front of Bakura, “He claimed sanctuary. There’s nothing I can do.” The man turned bright red, a gruesome scowl forming on his face.

“Then drag him outside and-” Gozaburo stormed up to Atem and grabbed his arm, fully intended to throw his captain out of the way, when he was interrupted.

“Gozaburo!” A sage voice shouted. It echoed through the hallowed space. “You will not touch him!” Atem and Bakura gasped, but Gozaburo only growled. He seemed to expect this. The Archduelist walked up to the trio without fear. Atem respectfully backed away, but Gozaburo showed no such courtesy. He glared down at the shorter man as Sugoroku placed an arm around Bakura and gently led him away. The Yami was stunned by this act of kindness, so much so that he didn’t react to the touch or soft words.

“Don’t worry,” He assured the teen, “Minister Gozaburo learned years ago to respect the sanctity of the church.” He gave the judge a pointed look. Gozaburo didn’t respond, merely flicking his hand backwards, ordering Atem to leave. The captain nodded, and shot Bakura a sheepish glance as he turned to go. Bakura glared at him in response.

Gozaburo followed behind the captain until the two reached the door. When Atem exited, the older man ducked behind a nearby pillar. He remained quiet, patiently waiting until- Soft footsteps padded against the floor. The movement was fast, but delicate, barely making a sound. The steps of a Yami. Gozaburo held his breath. White hair flickered past him. He leapt forward, grabbing Bakura’s arm and yanking it behind his back. Finally having the object of his chase in his grasp was nearly as delicious as the grunt of pain his prisoner released. Gozaburo chuckled.

“You think you've outwitted me, but I am a patient man...” He laughed again and leaned closer, breathing in Bakura’s ear, “And besides, Yamis don't do well inside stone walls.” As he pulled away, a lock of hair tickled Gozaburo’s nose. The stern judge found himself near moaning. Bakura smelled  _ wild _ , of sweat and the streets. It was a strong, intoxicating aroma that nearly drove Gozaburo mad. He leaned closer, and deeply inhaled. He could feel the lean body below him tense, and he smirked. There was something absolutely delectable about the idea of the strong Yami leaning away from Gozaburo in fear.

“What are you doing?” The gruff teen asked and Gozaburo knew he was nearly caught. But Bakura didn’t need to know that.

“Why, I was merely imagining how a noose would look around that beautiful neck.” Without hesitation, the judge lifted his hand to caress the pale neck. The skin was soft, much to Gozaburo’s surprise, and without blemish. His fingers tingled as the touch, imagining how the rest of his bare skin would feel. Unfortunately, this was a mistake. Though Gozaburo was much larger than Bakura, the boy was no weakling. Even a great force such of the Judge of Domino City couldn’t hold the Yami back with only one hand.

Bakura wrenched himself from the corrupt man’s grasp. “I know exactly what you were imagining!” Bakura hissed as he rubbed his bruising wrist. Gozaburo chortled.

“Such a clever witch. So typical of your kind, twisting the truth to cloud the mind with unholy thought. Well, no matter.” He began to walk away, but glanced back to the white-haired boy. “You've chosen a magnificent prison, but it is a prison nonetheless.” He opened the front door. “Set one foot outside, and you're mine!” The heavy door slammed shut, and seemed not only to echo inside the massive area, but through Bakura as well. A nauseous grip clamped his stomach. He swallowed the nervous rock that formed in his throat.  _ This can’t be possible. _

He dashed over to another door, knowing he had to get out while he still could. His coat flew out behind him like dark wings, as though somehow knowing he needed to fly away. But Bakura was too late. When he opened the door, three guards were already positioned outside. 

“Gozaburo's orders!  Post a guard at every door,” one commanded.

“Shit!” Bakura growled as the door smashed closed. He leaned back against it, and slid to a sitting position with a scowl. “One thing’s certain,” he muttered to no one in particular, “If Gozaburo thinks he can keep me here, he’s wrong!”

“Don’t act rashly, child.” A hand placed itself on Bakura’s shoulder and the Yami almost jumped out of his skin.  _ Damn, this guy is a ninja!  _ “You created quite a stir at the festival.  It would be unwise to arouse Gozaburo's anger further.” He looked down at Bakura with kind features, and though the words were warning, his eyes twinkled. Bakura had a feeling that he enjoyed the mischief.

“You saw what he did out there, letting the crowd torture that poor boy!” Bakura shouted, his hand curling into a fist. “I thought if just one person could stand up to him, then... Ugh.” He sighed and rubbed his temples. “What do they have against people who are different, anyway?” Sugoroku gave him a sad smile.

“You can’t right all the wrongs in the world by yourself.” Bakura snorted.

“No one out there is going to help, that’s for sure,” he huffed, and Sugoroku chuckled with him.

“Perhaps...” He began slowly, as though measuring out the weight of his words, “there’s someone in here who can.” He glanced over to a large stained glass window, the centerpiece of Kame Dame. It held the image of the three god monsters, the Sky Dragon of Osiris,  Giant God-Soldier of Obelisk, and, in center, the Winged-God Dragon of Ra. Bakura followed the glance and nearly laughed out loud. The Three Gods? Help him? It was ludicrous. The Archduelist must have sensed his reluctance, because he shrugged and said, “How can you be sure?” before leaving the Yami alone with his thoughts.

“The old man’s crazy,” Bakura muttered. He’d rather die than turn to those false bastards for help. It was because of them people like Gozaburo Kaiba were in charge, because of them the Yamis were exterminated like vermin, because of them that Kul Elna lay in shambles. He cast his eyes up to the window, glaring with enough force to shatter the glass. “You bastards!” he accused as he stood, “This is all your fault.” He snickered, but with more anger than humor.

“ _ I doubt that you can hear me, _ ” he spat at the image, “ _ Hell, I doubt you're even there. I doubt that you would listen to a Yami’s prayer! _ ” He laughed before beginning again, this time with a mocking tone. He took his coat and wrapped it around his hair like he was some kind of nun.

“ _ Yes, I know I'm just an outcast, I shouldn't speak to you. _ ” He ripped the coat from his head, freeing his hair in one fluid, pissed off motion. “I’m bloody done with this place!” He scowled, and intending to leave, when a trio of statues caught his eye.

“ _ Still, I see your Hikaris and wonder, weren’t they once outcasts too? _ ”

Yuugi, Jounouchi, and Honda. Those three were the heroes of Duel Monsters, Servants of the Three Gods. Ask any small child, and they would be able to tell you of the wonderful tales of the Hikaris in their battle against the forces of evil. Of course, most children didn’t know the backstory behind these great and beloved heroes. Jounouchi and Honda had originally be agents of Zorc, causing pain and destruction everywhere they went. Heinous crimes could be attributed to them, including defacing one of the sacred Millennium Items.

Yuugi on the other hand... He was a nobody. Less than a nobody in fact. As far as Bakura knew (and, admittedly, he didn’t know much. This had never been his favorite topic, for good reasons) he had pretty much been trash at the feet of others, particularly Honda and Jou. No one stood up for him, no one cared about him... He had been completely alone.

Outcasts, all of them. Scorned by society, just like him. And yet...

Bakura sighed, and ran at hand through his tangled hair.

“I must be out of my damn mind.”


End file.
